Elvish horn
by AnadoraBlack
Summary: Not every Elf has her gifts. In their world, it means being an outcast. But in these troubled times, only she can help the most troubled of the Men's cities. OC/Faramir
1. Elvish sword

_ A/N: There it is. The story I had waiting in the back of my head. I hope you'll like it, readers!_

_ I've rewitten this thanks to Galad Estel. :)_

**1. Elvish sword.**

_ As always, Elvish is in italic!_

The trees were warning me. _Orcs_. A _lot_ of Orcs. Coming my way. They had caught my scent. Good. I needed a little blood that morning. Something to prove myself I was still of some use.

I took my sword by the hilt and pushed it on the ground, closing my eyes as I waited for the abominations to reach me.

Quiet. Peaceful. Ready to kill. Ready to save the forest.

Ysengard's forest had already been completely emptied of its eldest trees, and that day had been a torture for me. My link with the Ents was so strong I had felt their loss, their pain, and I had flown to Fangorn to stop the slaughter. I had established my camp not far from the new border, and waited impatiently to kill those who'd try to cut down some other elderlies.

I was an Elf. But not like any other Elf. I was a _Maheran_. A witch. Someone who could hear every part of the Earth speaking. Someone who could link herself with any form of life and become it. Someone the other Elves dreaded. A She-elf who could never go home. Even my own family kicked me out.

My name? Aniha. My bloodline? I'm a princess in blood and status. Not the kind of person you'd likely kick out of your life. Not in the Elves' world. I was an outcast. A pariah. And I didn't mind. I had been for the last 1400 years.

In Mirkwood, there had been an awful tradition since the dawn of time. Some prowerful Elves had become the most dangerous things on Middle Earth, and ever since then, the Maheran were sent away when their body was entering teenage. I had been one of them. Who cared I was Thranduïl's niece when I could blow the forest just by sending fire through my eyes?

The trees warned me again. _Not far now_.

I cut my thoughts from interfering and listened. I listened to what the ground could tell me. It told me they were twenty. They were strong, but not Uruks. They were afraid. They had scented I wasn't like any other Elf. They feared for their lives. And they were right.

Once the first one entered my blind vision, my lifted my sword and jumped upwards to land in a tree. It hadn't seen me. I waited for it to come closer, until I jumped down and cut its head in two. Its greenish blood tarnished my tunic, but I didn't care. I'd seen worse.

The others then spotted my presence, and as always, thought that being a lot to attack at the same time could prevent them from dying. Orcs. They were so predictable. I beheaded few of them, cut others in two following the hips, and cut two others' throat. As for the others, they were rewarded the honour of being killed with a cracked neck. I was buying time.

After a few minutes, I straightened up, hearing the trees silently applauding. I had killed them all. But there was something else in the air. Someone had entered the forest. Someone unwanted. No, not someone. People.

I pushed my hand on a close tree and started asking questions. H_ow many? Which race? Dangerous?_ The tree answered, choosing the link with its brothers and sisters. There were four people. One was a man, one an Elf, one a Dwarf, and the last one, not travelling with them, was a wizard. A _white_ wizard.

I growled. So, Saruman thought he could enter Fangorn without being harmed. Without being attacked. He was so mistaken.

I took my sword back where I let it, meaning in an Orc's stomach, wiped it with my already soiled tunic, and started silently running towards where the trees were calling for help. _The White Wizard approaches. The White Wizard's coming._ I calmed them down. _I am here. Do not fear._

My sword met something as hard as rock. The brilliant light I had decided to attack some seconds ago was reteating, revealing a white figure. I let my sword down.

"_Who are you?_" I then remembered something and switched back to the common tongue. "Who are you?"

"I am the White Wizard. I do not wish you harm. Nor to your vegetal friends." His voice reminded me of someone, but I couldn't remember who.

"We do not wish you on these lands. We need to be alone. To protect Fangorn means fighting alone." I put my sword back in its place, at my right hip.

"I know, Aniha. The work of a Maheran is more important than anything else. Calm down, little one. I'm here on purpose."

I felt a wave of calm surrounding me and I welcomed it. It'd been so long since I had felt _that_ peaceful.

"You know my name. I do not know yours."

"Unfortunately, I do not remember mine. But I feel like we'll know soon enough."

I could hear the three other trespassers approaching. The Dwarf was panting, the man was quietly looking for clues near the trees, and the Elf...

I could feel my eyes widening and my breathing quickening. I knew that scent. That Elf was someone I knew. I knew him very well. How long I hadn't seen him! Too many years had passed without someone of my kin to cross my path. This was going to be a great day.

They all started attacking the Wizard. The Elf shot arrows that were thrown backwards, the Dwarf threw his axe, and the man's sword became so hot he had to drop it. They all put a hand before their eyes to see past the light, and then I saw him.

Legolas Greenleaf. Prince of Mirkwood. Standing not far from me but still not seeing me.

My own cousin.

_Review please!_


	2. Elvish tales

_ A/N: Here's the most anticipated second chapter! :)_

_ Thanks again to the marvellous Galad Estel who has provided me with the most precious informations about the LOTR books! :D_

**2. Elvish tales.**

"You are tracking the footsteps of two young Hobbits." The wizard's voice was becoming clearer in my mind everytime he was speaking. Soon I'll remember where I had heard it first.

"Where are they?" The man asked. His voice was deep, yet concerned. I couldn't see his face yet, but I was guessing who it might be. It would be the first time I saw Aragorn, son of Arathorn, since his arrival in Rivendell, so many years before.

"They passed this way the day before yesterday." That was true. I had heard the trees saying that two little half-lings travelled East with Treebeard, the most grumpy Ent I've ever met. "Does that comfort you?"

"Show yourself!"

The wizard walked forward and suddenly the light faded, revealing the old but warm face of Gandalf the Grey. So he was alive. And he was Gandalf the White now. I could guess that meant trouble for that treacherous Saruman.

"It cannot be." Aragorn walked forward too, and I clearly saw his now middle-aged face. Thick dark shoulder-long hair, a greying beard, and dark grey leather clothes. I restrained a smile.

"Forgive me." Legolas kneeled before Gandalf. "I mistook you for Saruman."

"I am Saruman, or rather, Saruman as he should have been."

Aragorn took another pace forward. "You fell." I could feel he had grieved a precious friend. I placed a hand on my chest, meaning I was aware this had been hard times.

"Through fire and water. From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought with the Balrog of Morgoth. Until at last I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside." Gandalf's words were harsh though said with an indifferent voice. I could almost feel what he had suffered through. I silently knelt behind the tree where I was hiding. I couldn't bond with Gandalf. Close your mind, Maheran! "Darkness took me and I strayed out of thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead and everyday was as long as a life age of Earth. But it was not the end. I felt life in me again. I've been sent back until my task is done." I wiped one tear away as I saw clear pictures of that fight for life Gandalf had fought. I got up, still as silent as the wind.

"Gandalf." Aragorn stopped his obvious urge to hug the old man.

"Gandalf? Yes, that was how they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey. That was my name. I am Gandalf the White." I grinned in the shadows as I saw Aragorn smiling.

Then I felt a gaze on me. I sighed as I realised my hiding time was over.

Legolas lifted his bow. "_There is someone in those trees._"

Gandalf lifted an arm. "Peace, Legolas Greenleaf. I think you will find this encounter most pleasant. Step forward, Maheran."

I stepped out of the darkness, and suddenly I had eight eyes on me. Without counting the gazes of thousands of trees, waiting to know a story I had refused them for years.

I put a hand on my chest and bowed. "_Legolas. My heart hurts with the joy of seeing you again, dearest cousin._"

Legolas' eyes were wider than I ever saw them in our childhood. His long blond hair had grown, but his blue eyes were the same.

Aragorn, on the other hand, was stunned both by my sentence, which he had understood of course, and the strange feeling I could guess he had as he saw a somehow familiar face in front of him.

The Dwarf was looking at guard, as if he waited for me to attack.

"_Aniha?_" Legolas lowered his bow, and in the time of a blink his hands were on my shoulders. "_Cousin? Is that you?_"

I hugged him carefully. "_I've missed you._" I sensed him hesitate, but after a while, he returned the hug.

When I broke our embrace, Aragorn stepped forward. "_I am-_"

"Aragorn, son of Arathorn. I know who you are." I grinned.

"I remember your face."

"Yes, you do. Thought last time I saw you, you weren't in state of remembering every person you were meeting." I chuckled. "You were a very quiet baby."

His grey eyes widened. "You-"

"I met you when you arrived in Rivendell, in your young days. I was there to ask Lord Elrond counsel." I bowed. "Master Dwarf."

"Gimli, Missy, me name's Gimli."

"Nice to meet you then, Gimli."

"And your name is?" The Dwarf was being careful not to upset me, I could see it. Maybe he had heard of the Maherans.

"This is Aniha. My cousin." Legolas' hand met my waist. "Many man's lives have passed since I last saw her."

"Really? How many?"

"One thousand, four hundred, sixty six years, three months and seventeen days" I stated. Legolas' brows lifted a little. "I've been alone for long now, _cousin_."

"Aniha, I know you have chosen a path in Fangorn that I can't ask you to leave unfinished, but I would like to ask for your assistance in these dark times."

I put two fingers on my mouth. "I will, Gandalf. My time has passed in these woods. The trees agree that they don't need me anymore. Your Hobbitses will take my place as for now." I didn't discuss that with the trees, they knew what they were doing. If they thought two half-lings could help them, so be it. "What do you want me to do?"

"Accompany us, at first. I'm sure your kin will be glad to talk to you for a while. We are heading for Edoras."

"I've been there, long ago. The Rohirrims were not Horse masters at that time."

Gimli whistled. "You're really old, Missy. No offense." He lifted his hands. I chuckled.

"You can ride with us to Edoras, then I'm afraid our paths will have to split."

I nodded. "Where will I ride to?"

"Ithilien."Aragorn opened his mouth as to interfere, but Gandalf didn't leave him time to do so. "I know for sure mercenaries are entering Middle Earth from the South, and we need someone reliable to stop them."

I nodded again. "So be it, Mithrandir."

We then started walking towards the borders of Fangorn, from where they had arrived a day ago.


	3. Rohirrim plains

_ A/N: It really is pleasant to see that you like my story, folks! :)_

_ As always, all I own is Aniha and the plot surrounding her..._

**3. Rohirrim plains.**

Somehow we managed to make our way through the trees. I didn't want to lead the group, as I felt it wasn't my place. I let Gandalf walk before us, and kept it close with Legolas. He didn't say much, but I could see in his fair eyes that he was imploding with thousands of questions.

Aragorn decided on his own behalf to stop our struggling. "So, Aniha, you're a Maheran." I just nodded. "I've never met any since my early childhood. Plaint was his name."

"Plaint died many years ago. He faded." I put a hand on my chest once more, and so did Legolas, which surprised me.

"I've never asked much about your kind. And I guess it shouldn't be easy to tell me about it." I turned to face him, and his eyes were sincere. Sometimes it was easy to see the King within the man.

"I can talk to you about my powers, but that isn't an easy story, Aragorn. I am after all not wanted within my own people." I put a restraining hand on my cousin's wrist. "Apart from you, Legolas. We were both too young to take our own decisions."

Legolas nodded, but I could see now he was struggling between the feeling he had done things wrong and the tradition of being distant with me.

"We could discuss that on horse back, I'd feel better if the trees weren't listening." I whispered though knowing the roots could spread the message as well as the leaves.

"The trees?" Gimli's voice was interested but, I could hear, distressed too.

"They beg to know my story since I've arrived in Fangorn. But I can't tell them. They wouldn't bond with me the same if they knew."

"Why? Have you done something wrong?"

I giggled. "No, Gimli. I'm just born in the wrong forest."

Legolas chuckled next to me. "_Really?_"

"_You have no idea!_"

Aragorn joined our laugh, and Gimli looked bad not understanding why. I swore myself to tell him as soon as we were out of Fangorn.

When they reached the end of the woods, I turned one last time to push one of my hands to some tree's trunk and wished the forest farewell. The trees responded and wished me luck.

Then Gandalf whistled really loudly, and suddenly one of the most beautiful horses appeared on our left, and started galloping our way.

"That's one of the Mearas, unless my eyes are cheated by some spell." Legolas' voice was one of astonishment, while I was barely surprised. Mearas weren't that rare, I -f you knew where to look.

The horse stopped in front of Gandalf, who flatted him. "Shadowfax. He is the lord of all horses and has been my friend through many dangers." He climbed on its back while I took several paces forward. I bowed in front of the horse.

"Shadowfax, it's been a long time."

Gandalf's eyes widened, as did Legolas', but Aragorn just resumed preparing his own horse and Gimli was trying not to fell off his.

Shadowfax pushed his nose to mine and I knew he had greeted me. I patted his neck and went to ride behind Aragorn.

"We have to make for Edoras. There's no time to waste." And he kicked Arod's side.

"So Missy, you have powers that are not good, is that it?" Gimli's voice was jumping when himself wasn't secure on his saddle.

"You know about the Maherans, Gimli, son of Gloin. Don't act as if you were stupid." I giggled.

Aragorn's breath slowed. "I never heard of your kind until I was a teenage. I didn't understand why it was bad to be like you."

I sighed a little. "During the Great War, many Elves were gifted with the same powers I possess, but they didn't use them wisely, and turned bad in the end. Mirkwood owned many of those Maherans, and they took over themselves to end their lives. Until that era, Maherans are sent away when their powers appear, and they forever are considered to be unpredictable and dangerous."

"But clearly, what can you do?" Gimli was sincere that time.

"I can bond with every living thing that allows me to. Trees, Earth, Water, Horses, even Men sometimes."

"Bond?"

"She can enter their minds and become one with them. She melts away and enters them."

"What, like an insect?" Gimli's dark eyes were staring at me, uncomfortable.

I laughed. "Yes, a little like that. But I've never bonded with Men, or Elves, or Dwarves. That is dangerous beyond any borders. Invading someone's mind can't be for good." I shuddered.

"The Lady of Lorien has the same power."

"Galadriel is powerful, maybe even more powerful than I am, but she isn't a pure Maheran. She has some abilities, and doesn't have others."

"What other powers are you talking about?"

"Those I can't discuss about, to anyone, sorry Gimli."

Legolas made his horse pace next to ours. "_I wished you weren't._"

"_But I am. You can't change that, cousin._"

He nodded sadly. "_I know. But still, I have missed you._"

"Aniha, might I ask when you were...let's say...made unwelcome in Mirkwood?" Aragorn was trying to "change the subject", but it only made it more difficult for Legolas to hear. He had been such a disappointment that day!

"I could, but that is more painful than the sight of being exiled by your own uncle."

"I still want to know."

"My body was turning teenage. So, 60 at the most."

"Your powers didn't show up before?"

"No. All Maherans discover their powers late. Fortunately for us, we aren't sent into exile once we're born."

"And your...parents?"

Legolas put a hand on his friends' arm. "Her father was a traitor. He went away as soon as my father offered his land, and he crosses the seas to offer his knowledge to our enemies. But he died, we know that for sure." Then he turned to me, his blue orbs almost apologetic. "Her mother, my father's youngest sister, still grieves her only child." I glared down, my eyes watering a little.

"_I can't say, Legolas. I don't remember her very well._"

"Behold, my dears, he we enter the Rohirrim plains! Gandalf yelled at us and stopped my trail of thoughts. Aragorn stopped his horse and we watched as Edoras was standing not far from where we were contemplating Rohan.

So soon we arrived at the feet of a hill, covered in tumuli. So they hadn't changed their strange funeral tradition. Some graves were all covered in white flowers, others were already fainted in the ground. Rohan's forefathers.

Arod stopped and I flew off his back.

Gandalf turned to me, sadness in his eyes as he knew I would have liked to stay with my newly found family. "Aniha, our paths must go different ways from now on. It was a pleasure to see you again." I nodded while he made Shadowfax pace forward to give us air.

Aragorn hugged me and wished me farewell in my language, and Gimli only mumbled something like "Almost as fair as the Lady of the Woods".

Legolas took his time, but eventually he wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me closer. "_I will miss you again, cousin, as if it was the first day._"

I kissed his cheek. "_It always feels like the first day, Legolas, always._"

Then I turned to face Ithilien, not so far south-east.

"I shall see you again, Brothers of the Fellowships, the winds can tell me."

And I flew towards my new adventures.

_ I'm so tired of writing nonsense! I wished they saw each other for a longer time, and now I just kick her away again! Pfff, kill me!_

_ Review please!_


	4. Rohirric prince

_ A/N: Thanks again to all those who review kindly or not, and to the wonderful readers I get every day for this story!_

_ And as always, all sites, characters and outside plot are courtesy of Mr Tokien, RIP, whereas I only own Aniha and her whereabouts._

**4. Rohirric prince.**

I ran and ran and ran for miles and miles east before I could rest for a moment. Long gone were the sights of Ysengard, and Edoras was far behind me, as I had been running for more than two days in a row.

Being an Elf, I didn't really need to rest, but I had to make sure I wasn't advancing into a trap, and that's when my skills were very useful. Where I stopped that time, I plunged one of my bare hands into a light water current, and listened as it told me that beyond its source lied a camp. A camp of Men.

I sighed.

"_Water-dear, could you tell me what kind of Men you see?_"

"_Men on horses. Fair hair and disdainful looks, as if there were exiled from their homes._"

I knew the tales. I heard the Fangorn trees talking about this. Theoden-King of Rohan had been poisoned by Saruman, who had taken control of his mind and will. I could only guess that the Men the river was talking about were Rohirrims, and one of them should have been important.

"_One of them, Aniha-Maheran, is the Prince Eomer, nephew to the King._"

I bowed and put my other hand to my chest. "_Thank you, river-friend, for your kind help. Farewell_." And I pulled my palm back, wiping it on my tunic.

So the Rohirrims were camping east of my position. And I definitely didn't want to reach Ithilien by the mountains, so I'd just have to run into the Men and explain them some things.

Every condition could have advantages, even mine, sometimes.

I got up, swallowed a bit of lambas bread Legolas had given me, and I resumed running towards the darkest sky of Mordor.

I silently made my way towards the East, careful not to wake any creatures of the Earth, anything that could make me being seen or heard.

When the sky began to get darker, not because of the shadow Sauron was spreading towards the Men's realms, but because of the oncoming night, I spotted the beginning of a shy fire some miles in front of me.

"_Men. They do think fire will keep them out._" I nearly giggled at their idiocy.

I've always been aware of the strange cult Men had for fire, as if it protected them from every harm. As far as I was concerned, a thick leaf blanket was the best protection from cold, and Orcs were most definitely not impressed by a couple of flames. Not when it came to eating fresh flesh.

I made my way towards the Men. I quickly saw that their soldiers' tent were placed in a circle, surrounding one single and taller tent, that of the Prince Eomer I supposed. The horses were haltered not far from three soldiers, pikes at the ready, who should be their guards.

I considered for a split second to continue, to pass their camp unnoticed, as I know I could thanks to the night, and continue my journey to Ithilien, but something deep in me told me I needed to talk to these men.

I crawled between the high grass and slowly made my way towards the three guards.

With a push of my mind, I entered the horses' minds, one by one, to reassure them, to tell them I'd come at peace. They responded calmly enough, though one or two felt invaded into their privacy. I apologized quickly, as I knew horses had a fierce spirit.

As I knew I'd not meet any resistance on the animals behalf, I slowly removed my bow from my quiver and armed it as silently as ever.

As I banded the wood, I started speaking loud and clear, and the three Rohirrims knew I was standing right at their back.

"Men of Rohan, I wish you the goodnight!"

One of them jumped aside and drew his sword out, the two others trying desperately to find me in the already thickening darkness. Once they spotted me, their dark eyes widened, and I smirked.

"Who are you? Announce yourself!" His voice wasn't tense, but it wasn't comfortable either. I chose to ignore the man.

"I'd wish to see your Captain. I believe Eomer is his name."

"Eomer I am, She-Elf, and I'd really like to know what you are doing in here, bow out." This time my eyes widened. The voice had come from not far at all from me, and as I looked behind me, I saw a fair haired and dark eyed man, in a reddish armour, relying on his sword.

Not three feet from me.

And I didn't hear him move. Not once.

_ Galad Estel will most probably tell me that it's almost impossible for Elves not to hear something, but let's just pretend this time Aniha didn't pay real attention, as pretentious as she was acting..._

_ Review please!_


	5. Rohirrim talks

_ A/N: I lost track of time. Forgive me for making you wait so long, I really am a bad bad girl... :/_

_ Anyway, enjoy the sudden apparition of my third favourite LOTR character, after Smeagol (I just _love_ him) and Faramir. Eomer's just the best blondie ever... ^^ Merlin bless Karl Urban!_

**5. Rohirrim talks.**

I put my bow down and turned to face the Prince of Edoras. "I wish you no harm, Men of Rohan. I just seek a place to spend the night, and some company. I've been alone for many days now." It wasn't completely a lie, if you erase the two days I had spent with my cousin and the others.

Eomer gestured to his men to drew out their weapons, and walked to me in a gracious walk. "What business does a She-Elf have in the Riders Mark?"

"I'd rather talk about this somewhere else, Eomer, nephew of Theoden-King."

He lifted his eyebrows, and then nodded. He turned around and walked towards his tent, where I was asked to give my bow and sword and knives over to his men. I tilted my head to one side.

"I don't need that to kill you, Men, but I will give them up nevertheless. Be sure not to lose them, or you'll pay it with your lives." And I entered the tent behind Eomer.

It was a soldier's tent. All red and gold, Rohan's colours, but still Spartan. A wooden bed with a single wheat mattress, a desk, and a few cushions to sit on when you were eating. I took one of them as mine.

Eomer sat in front of me, and started staring at me in awe.

I did the same for a few moments, and then became bored of it. "My name is Aniha."

He nodded. "Where do you come from, Aniha?"

"Everywhere, and nowhere."

His brown eyes widened. "I've never met an Elf who doesn't come from a place."

"I was born in Mirkwood, if that's what you're asking."

Suddenly, his orbs reached recognition. "Oh, I see. You're what they call a Maheran. What we call a Woodwitch."

It struck me then that he didn't look frightened, and that was new to me. "Aren't you afraid of me, knowing that, Sir Prince?"

He giggled, and it made a low yet sincere sound. "Why, should I be? Your people's believing never reached our lands, and I learned about your kind by tales of my people. Some say a Woodwitch came to Edoras and taught a lad how to talk to horses."

I smiled and looked down. "Yes. That is a day I'll never forget."

His eyes widened. "Are you-?"

"I am that Woodwitch, yes. It was a long time ago, and still I remember it very well. Your people were already good riders, but nothing like today." I didn't want to boast about my responsibility in their succeed with horses.

"Anyway, why are you in here, Aniha?"

I noticed that he was using my name, not my title, and it was also new to me. "I am on a mission. I'm on my way to Ithilien. It is common knowledge that mercenaries are making their way from the South to the Black Gate. I have to stop most of them to succeed in their task."

He looked impressed. "And who gave you that mission? Trees? Middle-Earth itself maybe?"

I giggled. "You're trying hard to sound polite, Eomer. No need for that. That mission was given to me by Mithrandir." He looked oblivious. "Gandalf the White."

His eyebrows lifted once more. "I thought Gandalf had fallen in the mines of Moria."

"You seem well informed."

"I met some of his companions not long ago."

I smiled. "A dark-haired man, a fair-haired Elf and a red-headed Dwarf."

"You know them."

"The Elf is my cousin. Legolas of Mirkwood."

"I was introduced to him that way. Then, after, I made my own researches. He is the heir to Mirkwood 's throne, isn't he?" I nodded. "And if you're his cousin, you are-"

"I am indeed a princess in blood and birth, but my status took all of that away. It's been a long time since anyone called me "Princess". And I do not mind."

He handed me a cup of wine, which I took and drank slowly. It had been a awful while since I drank such a brew. "It must be hard to live alone."

His eyes showed nothing else than compassion. "I grew used to it. But I miss my cousin more than anyone else. Apart from my mother, perhaps."

"You were...betrothed to your cousin?"

I giggled. "No, those doings, in Mirkwood, aren't seen well. No, but I have been raised alongside Legolas. You could say we were like siblings."

"Oh."

"I believe you too have a sister?"

"You seem well informed." I smiled as he used the same words as I.

"I am Maheran, I can guess some things, and others come to me by themselves."

He smiled. "Eowyn is the most precious thing I have left on the Earth. My cousin, Theodred, passed away some days ago."

"I'm sorry for that loss."

"You are. I couldn't say the same for his won father."

So it came. I put a hand on Eomer's shoulder and locked my eyes with his. No bonding though, only comfort. "Eomer, you uncle was possessed, you know it. But, when Gandalf and his friends reached Edoras, the poison of Saruman left his body and soul. Theoden-King is now fully recovered."

Eomer looked suspicious. "Why hasn't he called on me, then?"

"I do not know. But family bonds are the toughest you can find on this Earth and on the others. Your uncle loves you still, Eomer, you cannot doubt it."

"What should I do? He is my King, I cannot go back to Edoras, he has banned me himself. It would still be disobeying orders."

I sighed and sat back on the cushion. "Your kind is walking to Helm's Deep as we speak."

His eyes widened, this time is fear. "Fools! If Saruman knows of it, he'll-"

"I'm afraid, Eomer, that Ysengard is already emptied, or about to be. You have to gather your men and ride to Helm's Deep. You're your people's last chance of succeed."

"But we are at least a week from Helm's Deep!"

"That's why I'm here."

"How have you known in the first place."

I pushed a hand to the ground and its dust whispered to me. "The soil is broadcasting through me as we're speaking. I just got these informations."

He looked at my fingers, buried in the ground, and then his darkened eyes locked with mine once more. "Couldn't you ride with us, Aniha-Maheran?"

I sighed. "I would have done it, Eomer, Prince of the Raiders, but this isn't my war. Not yet. I'm afraid I must leave it into your hands. You will do perfectly."

I got up, as I saw the men guarding the tent falling asleep at their post.

"You need sleep, Prince of Rohan. Let me take the guard, and let your men rest their soul. Tomorrow will be a long day for all of us."

I put a hand to my chest and parted the blonde Prince of the Mark.

With a strange feeling in my heart. May I have just made a friend?

I took back my bow, sword and knives from the sleeping guards, and sat down at their place. I kept my eyes open during the rest of the night.

_ I might have done it weirdly, but I thought it might have been a good idea to make Aniha alarm Eomer. I never understood how Gandalf reached them in three days, imagine, if they had been all the way to Gondor, how many more days would it have taken him! Oô So, yeah, this is my answer to a part of movie I never got through unthinking... ^^_

_ Review, please!_


	6. Elvish arrows

_ A/N: Here I come again, dearest readers! Here comes a part I'm pretty sure was the easiest to write yet. I just love ripping people to pieces... ^^_

**6. Elvish arrows.**

That morning, the Rohirrims got up really early, and began to pack at once. I wasn't a enemy anymore, and Eomer had decided to give me a horse, which I refused gently.

"It would really be an honour to ride a Mark's horse, Eomer, but I know what they feel, and I'm not sure this one would like to be ridden by a Maheran. These really are fierce creatures. And besides, I'll go unnoticed if I'm travelling by foot."

The blonde rider nodded and clapped his hands to the horse would be driven back to another owner. "As you wish. Are you certain you won't come with us?"

I nodded too. "Yes, I am. It was a pleasure to meet you, Prince of the Mark. I hope our paths will cross again." I bowed and put a hand to my chest, as usual.

He bowed too. "That's my wish too. If my path crosses those of your cousin and his companions, be sure I'll send them your regards."

I smiled. "You're so kind."

He climbed onto his horses, bowed one last time and then turned to his cavalry. "Forth Eorlingas!" And they rode away, leaving me alone, standing in the middle of their fire's ashes.

That was the first in a long time that I was feeling so lonely. I had grown used to it, but my encounter with Legolas and his friends, and then with Eomer, who really was kindest that the average of Men, made me realise I loved being in the company of _talking people_.

After the Raiders left, I quickly gathered my weapons, made sure my arrows were still as sharp as they used to be, and took a pouch of oil Eomer had given me, in case I need to set something on fire.

I started running as the sun, still as shadowed as usual, reached 8 o'clock.

I reached Ithilien in another day. I had passed the Black Gate during the night, and what I had seen had made by inner witch growl. Mordor really was a horrid place, and the Men and Orcs that were running to it were just as evil. I even caught a glimpse of the Eye, but didn't stare for too long, in fear the Dark Lord would notice.

I had crossed the paths of many oliphants that morning. I had killed two, from the bushes, with the help of some trees, who had agreed in shooting their branches into the riders heads, killing them, while I took care of cutting the strings that linked the beast to its cargo. Many mercenaries died that way, and none of them ever spotted me.

I had gotten down of my perch by midday, to eat a little. I gathered some roots and leaves, and cooked me a quick meal, full of proteins and vitamins. I was used to eating that king of food, but nothing compared with lamba's bread. But I had decided to leave it in my pocket, in case I was stuck into a desert area.

I was still hearing the loud paces of hundreds of Men, heading for the North East, but I couldn't take care of them all. At least, I could take some oliphants down, to make sure my side wouldn't have too much trouble into winning this war.

This was the first time ever I had that kind of thoughts. Usually, I wasn't thinking of it as my war, much as their war. But since I had met Legolas again, I had suddenly realised that I wasn't the only Elf concerned by it. Every one of my kin would be killed by those beasts. And that's when I started to convince myself to do everything in my powers to save Middle-Earth. A little pretentious, I know, but that's how I was thinking at the time. I could die, but as long as I was taking as much traitors as I could with me, it didn't matter.

Once I had finished my meal, I gathered my arrows, wiped the oliphant's blood still soiling some of them, and got up as silently as a breeze.

I walked towards a small cliff, that provided me a very good view on the still marching on army. The remains of the oliphants and their cargo were still visible some yards away from the big of the troupe, but none of the mercenaries looked concerned, nor did any of them scouted the area in search for the sudden enemies.

I silently as ever took my bow on my back, and put my arrows on my right, where I could see them and count them.

I had twelve arrows left. With them, I could take three other oliphants down, and with them at least fifty men. But it wasn't a good thing to do. Where I was standing, it would be easy for them to spot where the arrows came from, and they'd run to me as a flight of flees on a carcass.

I swore between my teeth. If I wanted to take as many as I could down, I had to get down to them and kill them using my sword. Which wasn't safe at all either.

I decided that using my bow was less reckless, and I planted my left foot into the ground.

"_Trees, dear brothers, I need you help once more."_

_ Maheran. We salute you._

"_Could you please launch some of your biggest branches into these beasts faces, so I could shoot them, rather unnoticed?"_

_ We will do as you wish, Maheran. Brothers, sisters._

One of the closest oliphants then caught a branch the size of my thigh in its eye, and it blinded him for a while. I shot the strings on its side, and the leather straps were cut in three moves. But, by that time, some of the other men had spotted my general stand-out.

I crawled back left for some yards, and then shot another oliphant the same way I did the other. The men then looked as if they thought they were more than one of us, but some of them, probably more clever than the others, understood there was only me when the arrows only came from one place at a time.

The drew their swords out and a group of twenty ran towards me.

No time to hide in a tree, this time.

I stood up, tied my hair up, and took my sword at my belt.

"_Come over here, you filthy kind_."

The first one bumped into me and didn't have the time to scream before his throat was cut.

The second one had the time to dodge some of my strikes, but not for long before my blade made its way all the way into his chest.

Third one, beheaded. Fourth one, sword in the heart after he managed I-don't-know-how to wound me at the thigh. Fifth one, decided to take sixth one and seventh one with him.

That called for a bad time. I was an Elf, I could overtake them anytime. The thing was, I was standing in woods I didn't know about, and I was fighting, my back to a very big tree. I wasn't in the best of situations.

I pushed my left hand to the tree behind me. "_Help. Help me, brothers trees. I need you._"

I felt a rush of sap under my fingers, and suddenly if was lifted from the ground. I landed onto a high branch, and beneath me the ground collapsed. The mercenaries fell into the gap, and the soil took its usual place. They had buried the men alive.

The tree put me down.

"_Thank you._" I pushed two fingers to my mouth.

I swear I saw the tree bow.

My hair loosened back into their usual place, on my back, and my weapons gathered back (I had only two arrows left), I started to move further south, in an attempt to take the company down at their source.

I couldn't have walked more than four yards when I was stopped. I took my bow and arrows in the time of a blink, and looked into the direction of the voice.

"Stop here, stranger!" The voice repeated.

If they had been mercenaries, I would already have had ten men fighting me. I lifted my bow a little, more in an attempt to frighten the strangers than anything else.

They were six. Three of my right, two on my left and one in front of me. All hidden in bushes. But I could still hear their heartbeats.

"I will not stop, strangers."

One on my right huffed in surprise.

"Lower you bow, She-Elf, and nothing will happen to you."

"You perfectly know, Man, that if I had wanted you harm you would already be cold dead."

"And you, underestimate greatly our strengths."

"I'm sure of it." I lowered my bow, and put it to the ground. "Show yourself, so I can see who is so recklessly provoking me."

The man stepped into light, his sword out but, as my bow, lowered in a non offensive way. "I am Alaric, from Minas Tirith."

"The great city of Gondor. I haven't met any of your kind yet." I put two fingers to my mouth. "I am Aniha, Princess of Mirkwood and Maheran." I really wanted to boast at this one. No one messed with an Elf's pride. No one.

The other men huffed again, but Alaric didn't make a move to bow or anything that translated his surprise.

"You will follow us, Maheran."

"Why should I, Man?"

"Because you can be of some use to our kind. You took down five oliphants since yesterday."

I bowed a little. "Thanks to pay attention. I will follow you."

One of the men walked forward and tried to take my weapons. I put a hand on his. "Believe me, young one, you don't want to do this if you value your life."

The man looked at his chief, and Alaric nodded. The man released me. "Well, follow us, if you may, Madam."

He started walking West, and I followed. The other men were walking behind me, some of them scouting the surrounding area.

After a short time, I couldn't shut it up anymore. "Where are we heading, precisely?"

"You're going to meet our Captain. His name is Faramir."

_ Tehe, so here comes the chapter I waited to write... ^^_

_ Check out for a soon update this weekend or early next week!_

_ And review, of course!_


	7. Ithilien's caves

_ A/N: No words can describe how horrible I feel. I'm trying to make things right, so if this starts to be like shit, you tell me, and I'll take lessons. I've been trying to find a beta for this for months, but no one ever answers me. Really, this is shitty._

**7. Ithilien's caves**

We walked like this for hours, climbing onto slippy rocks, sometimes stopping when some of the soldiers were thirsty. Alaric always asked me if I was tired, if I needed water or anything. I didn't know if it was because I was a woman or Maheran, but that annoyed me somehow.

"Maheran."

It was after one of our pauses. I was walking relatively close to the first man, and Alaric joined me, his dark gaze locked on me in a strange way.

I turned to him. "Alaric?"

"We are drawing close. I should ask you to put a blindfold, but I am under the impression it would not prevent you from knowing where we're going."

We were already climbing into the rocky mounts heading to the Forbidden Pool, a misty place the Men of Gondor considered as a holy place.

I smirked. "Indeed. I already know you're leading me to the Forbidden Pool and its surrounding caves."

Alaric sighed and then gestured me to go on. "That's what I thought. After you, She-Elf."

And he didn't say anything after that.

With my bare hands, I kept on touching every rock I crossed path with, talking to them as quickly as I could, asking for assistance or counsel.

They had already told me Alaric and his men weren't a threat to me. They had already captured two more important people back in the caves, and they were those I had to focus my mind on.

When one rock whispered the word 'Hobbits', I quickly crossed these thoughts with what the Fangorn trees had told me. The Ring had left the Shire. The Ring was travelling to Mordor.

Well, the Ring-Bearer must have gotten lost on his way.

"Maheran?" I lifted my gaze and saw that we had reached a passage in the cliffs that leaded to a waterfall. "Follow me, and try not to slip." I nodded and followed my guide, entering deeper and deeper into the dark rocky caves.

The water soon estranged any other sound, and, as I passed a hand through it, a jolt was sent through my body.

_Welcome, Maheran._

I smiled. "_Thank you, water my friend._"

Alaric spotted my smile and walked close to me so his voice wasn't covered by the fall. "Why are you smiling, Maheran?"

I didn't bother turning to him. "Apparently, I am welcome in these lands."

He didn't answer, and I resumed walking, careful of both the slippy ground and the men that were now gathering around to see us arriving.

It wasn't such a deranging sight, Men of Gondor, their always dark hair floating in the air with the soft breeze, their gazes locked on my figure as I passed them. I could see I was intriguing them, seeing all the shared quizzical glances between them.

I smirked at the thought of their blatant fear when they'd learn.

Still, I couldn't help but marvel at the number they were. A good sixty men, all clad in Rangers' outfits. Whoever was that Captain Faramir, his men were both sent to exile by their Stewart and brave enough to bear it.

Alaric stopped the formation and turned to me.

"Follow me, please."

I exchanged an amused glance with one of the youngest of the company, his eyes immediately lighting with fear, and sauntered to follow my guide.

The caves were all linked together, providing a good hiding place for such a bunch of men, all covered by the waterfall and the sole entrance to the place.

Alaric turned several times into a maze of cavities and natural stairs, and then, finally, we reached a smaller cave, the waterfall forming a fourth wall, with a boulder used as a desk in the middle.

A man was sitting at the edge of the water.

Alaric cleared his throat and the man turned around, before standing up and face us both.

His hair was strangely bronze, a colour I had never seen on a blood of Numenor before. His eyes were the deepest blue, and his figure suggested he was a great warrior as well as a man of thought.

I saw him take me in as I did him, and smirked at the thought.

His eyes them turned to Alaric. "What news of the path?"

"The mercenaries are gathering, even more in number than before, I'm afraid. If it hadn't been for this She-Elf, they'd still have many more oliphants to ride."

The man – Faramir, I thought – looked at me then. "And who are you?"

I put a hand on my chest, as usual. "My name is Aniha."

I didn't want to give in too many informations, and I knew Faramir had understood that. "Where do you come from?"

I smirked. "As I keep saying to many people these days, I was born in Mirkwood. But, as you see, I'm currently in Ithilien."

The corner of his mouth twitched and he turned back to Alaric. "You can leave us, I'd like to talk with Aniha alone for a while. Prepare another wood mattress, our guests will have company tonight."

Alaric bowed and whirled on his heels to leave both Faramir and I alone.

The Captain, in his light-blue shirt, briefly looked at me before taking back his seat by the waterfall, and I followed, passing a thoughtful hand thought it, marvelling as it chuckled under my touch.

After a moment, Faramir's deep voice echoed again around the cave. "I know what you are."

I didn't answer right away, in case he wanted to add something. But he didn't. "And what are you going to do about it?"

Faramir sighed a little. "I do know of some tales about those like you, how they can be the darkest creatures among your kin. But, all I see is a She-Elf who killed oliphants when this war isn't even reaching the boundaries of her land yet."

I shook my head. "It's not because Mirkwood hasn't been attacked yet that it'll never be. Besides, I choose to help Middle-Earth in its entirety. Maherans feel the pain of people. I can feel their distress-calls."

Silence fell around us for a while, and I could almost hear the clogs working in his mind.

When he spoke again, he asked something I wasn't quite sure was relevant.

"Do you know of the Fellowship of the Ring?"

This time again, I didn't answer right away. "I know a little. My cousin is part of it."

He sighed deeply, and I could feel pain and loss oozing through his eyes. "So was my brother."

I didn't ask what question burnt my lips, for Faramir's gaze locked on mine and everything was then clear. His brother had died, and he ignored how or why.

Without a clue of why I did so, I put a careful hand on his bigger one, and to my surprise, he squeezed it quickly before standing up and gesturing me to follow.

"Come. There are people I wish you to meet."

And he disappeared in the maze of caves.

I shook my head in wonder and followed him.

Strange how I easily bonded with someone without touching him...

_I hope it was satisfying. It wasn't that hard to write, after all..._

_ Hope I'll be more regular with this story from now on... Review!_


	8. Hobbits tales

**8. Hobbits tales**

Faramir walked and walked in the maze of caves until we reached the one standing closer to the Forbidden Pool.

There, both sitting in utter silence and distress, were two Halflings.

They weren't the first of their race I stumbled across – far from it – but something about them made me shudder. _Alert_. Every fibre of my being was on high alert.

For something lurked in the dark. A voice, calling in the tongue-that-cannot-be-spoken, and I knew what it was.

Those Hobbits had brought the One Ring in Gondor.

Faramir cleared his throat, and the two Hobbits turned their heads to us.

One was brown haired and sky-blue eyed, when the other was redder haired and brown eyed. He was chubbier also, but bizarrely, he looked braver than his companion.

"Hobbits, this is Aniha. She will accompany you this night."

I smiled kindly to the two and put a hand to my chest. "Halflings."

Faramir stomped awkwardly. I narrowed my eyes to him, but the brown haired Hobbit answered my silent question.

"Captain Faramir had never seen a Hobbit before. He took us for Orcs spies."

I chuckled. How the situation was stupid! Orcs, Hobbits? Nothing was more idiotic than that!

I then realised Faramir had frowned to my laugh. I coughed twice and apologized quickly.

"Pardon me. But, knowing who and what Hobbits are, I think the comparison most...impossible." I smiled.

Faramir rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I will leave you three now. Aniha, feel free to ask for me anytime you need. I will call for you when meal time happens."

My eyebrows met my hairline in confusion. "I would rather eat with the two Halflings here, if you do not mind. They seem rather lost, in this dark and wet cave."

He caught my meaning at once. Pulling me gently toward him, the Captain of Ithilien then whispered in my ear. "Please, try to learn more about what happened to my brother."

I nodded, and he left us.

"So, why are two Hobbits – from Hobbiton I suppose, from your clothing – doing in Ithilien? Lost, perhaps?"

I sat myself in front of the two, and the chubby one shifted uncomfortably.

The brown haired one, on the other hand, kept staring at me. "You're not like any other elf, are you?"

I smirked. "And how could you tell that, Master Hobbit?"

"Frodo. My name is Frodo. Frodo Baggins."

I huffed. "A name worth whispering. Your kin has been venturing these lands long before your birth, am I mistaken?"

He shook his head. "You heard of my uncle Bilbo's adventures with Gandalf."

"Gandalf, thirteen dwarves, an elf my kin and many others. But you haven't answered my question, Master Frodo."

He smirked back. Some wits in him, then? Curious, for a Hobbit. "I know some elves, and they are nothing like you. They are all reserved and careful with their speech and manners, when you... You have a way of talking and interacting with people that make me wonder if you haven't got blood of a Man."

I chuckled at the supposition. "My my, Frodo! Do I look like a Man at all?" I showed him my pointy ears, my strangely dark circled eyes. "I am fully an Elf. But a special one. I'll tell about it one day, if you're worth it." Then my gaze turned to his companion, who was avoiding looking at me since the beginning of our discussion. "And who might that be?"

Frodo put a comforting hand on his fellow's shoulder. "This is Sam, my companion for this journey. He is the bravest Hobbit I've ever known."

Sam shifted uncomfortably again, under the compliment. "Nice meetin' you, Miss."

I chuckled. "No Miss with me, Master Samwise. Call me Aniha. Please."

Frodo's eyes narrowed. "How do you know-"

"That is full name is Samwise? As I know you originally travelled with two more of your kin, two men, a wizard, an elf and a dwarf?" I smirked mischievously. "I know _everything_!"

Sam gasped and I chuckled.

"I'm kidding, of course. I haven't told you the whole truth, my dear ones. I am from Mirkwood, the Dark Forest of the wood elves, and my cousin if one of your friends, I believe." I smiled wider.

Frodo smiled kindly then. "You're Legolas' cousin."

Sam yelled. "No way!"

I laughed, a clear, echo reverberating it around the cave. Or it might have been the water drops. "Indeed I am. And Aragorn is one of my friends as well, as is Gandalf, and as will soon be Gimli, if he lets me."

"Then, you'll be our friend too."

I smiled wider. "Thanks you, Frodo."

I then decided to pause a little before talking about more serious things.

I sighed and looked upright, into the darkness of the high ceiling the caves offered. Drops of cool water caressed my face as they fell, and they chuckled on my skin.

_Yes, I know, dear ones. I feel its call too._

My eyes diverted themselves from the ceiling and back onto Frodo, who was still staring at me, his fingers fidgeting with something he wore around the neck.

I could only guess what it was.

I tried to but failed to divert my eyes from it.

It called me.

But I wouldn't answer its pleas.

"I know you can feel it."

My eyes snapped back onto those, bluer than ever, of the Ring-Bearer. "I know you know." I sighed. "We need to talk about something."

Sam shook his head. "We ain't givin' you anythin', Miss, Elf or not."

I chuckled. "I am not asking to bear it for you, I cannot. My condition would wish to bring it back to its master, and that's the last thing I wish to do." I waved the questions away. "What I wished to ask you was if you knew Faramir's brother."

Frodo's eyes narrowed again. "We did. He asked you about his death, didn't he?" I nodded. "Well, we weren't there when it happened. But Boromir was a good friend of mine, and his loss was the hardest one."

I nodded back. "There is something else. I need counsel. Do you think it wise to tell Faramir about Aragorn?"

Sam seemed oblivious to what I asked, Frodo's eyes lit.

After a minute of silence and pondering, he nodded carefully. "You have to. But not now. All in good time."

I nodded and smiled. "Very well. Thank you. I wish you to forgive me, but I'm going to go and report to the Captain, then." Frodo opened his mouth to speak, I cut him. "And I won't tell him about what you carry."

I smiled again, got up and slowly made my way back into the tunnels.

No need for someone like me to look for directions. Water called me.

Better than a map.


	9. Perian's secrets

**9. Perian's secrets**

I quickly found the cave that Faramir used as his quarters. But he wasn't there.

Curiosity wasn't one of my qualities, so I calmly directed myself to the boulder he used as a desk, and peered onto the papers discarded there.

Some black dots where scattered on the paper, some fresh, some older. I could only guess what they meant, since the blackest of them was the one pointing Isengard. These were the enemy's camps.

"I could ask you to step away, but something tells me you wouldn't."

I whirled around. Faramir was standing at the entrance of the cave, a plate of bread in one hand and a mug in the other.

I smirked. "It's not as if you could hide anything from me either, Captain."

He rolled his eyes and walked to me, putting the plate and mug down, his eyes always locked on mine. That was becoming a habit of us, to stare.

It was so strange that thoughts seemed to pass from one to the other, without me touching him. That was a first, for me.

"You have talked to the Hobbits."

I nodded and sat myself in front of the waterfall, as we had done not hours prior. "I'm sorry to have to tell you that neither Frodo nor Sam know of your brother's death. They only repeated that they were close. Very close."

He nodded, his eyes darkening, and went to sit next to me, thoughtful. "I really wish I could know what happened. Boromir was a great warrior, you know. He wouldn't have died without putting up a fight."

I stared at him for a while, things he did not say flowing in the air. I gasped when I caught one darker thought than the others. "You believe your father wished you dead instead of him?"

Faramir's eyes snapped back to life. He was stunned. "How did you-"

I shrugged. "There is something special about you, Man. I can see through your mind without even touching you."

"Why? Do you usually need touching?" I nodded. "And if we touched now?" He outstretched his hand to take mine, but stopped inches above my skin, waiting for me to take the decision.

I stared at his bigger hand above mine, and took a deep breath. Nothing had happened before, why should it be different then?

I took his hand in mine, and nothing happened. Nothing. Not even a spark. I couldn't bond with him as I did others. Only through our eyes did it work.

"That's strange. Nothing similar has ever happened before."

Faramir's thumb caressed my hand while his eyes locked back onto mine.

I smirked. "Don't you think you're special."

He smirked back. "You already said there was something special about me. Forgotten already?"

I rolled my eyes. "You know what I meant."

"Indeed I do."

Thoughts passed form him to me and from me to him for what seemed like hours, and finally I caught one question I could answer.

Faramir wondered if I could learn what happened to his brother by asking water.

I tilted my head. "You've seen his-"

"His toomb. An elvish boat, errand on these waters. I saw it pass. That's how I know."

I nodded. "Then they can probably tell me where he had been put in this boat."

"Who, they?"

I smiled. "Water drops. Every element is formed by millions and millions of particles, each baring its own memory and sensibility. In our case, water drops."

He nodded.

I smiled. "Be very still. You might not hear anything, but if we keep staring at each other, you could hear my answers."

He nodded again and I pushed my free hand into the water.

_ Water drops, dear friends, I need your help._

A cold current chuckled under my touch. _You don't, Maheran. That Man of yours does._

I rolled my eyes. _He's no Man of mine, but yes, it is he who needs help._

_ We know what he seeks. It will not be easy to hear it._

_ Where have you seen him, then, my friends?_

_ The Man once called Boromir died on the shores of Parth Galen._

Faramir gasped. I understood he heard the spirits in my mind. It was peculiar. Most peculiar.

_Of his death, though, we do not know. Two perian fled before his demise, and we could sense he had a part in it._

Two perian. Frodo and Sam then.

_Thank you, dear friends. Rest well._

And I pulled my hand out of the freezing water, focusing back onto the Man facing me, tears swelling in his eyes without threatening to pour down.

"At least, I know where."

I nodded.

We were suddenly interrupted by Alaric, who came bursting into the cave, panting.

"Captain, we found it!"

Faramir bolted up, still holding my hand and therefore pulling me up with him. He seemed exalting. "Where?"

"Come and see for yourself!"

Before he could escape my reach, I gripped Faramir's shoulder and made him look straight at me. His thoughts immediately flowed to me.

The creature called Gollum had been sighted in the Forbidden Pool.

Oh no. Frodo had taken him as a guide.

Poor creature...


	10. Man's anger

**10. Man's anger**

Faramir ran out of the cave, running towards where Frodo and Sam were surely fast asleep then. I followed, the cogs in my brain still working hard.

Gollum. How on Earth did it find Frodo? Was the Ring really calling him? And why was he really helping them?

Alaric outstretched a hand in front of me to stop me in my tracks. We had reached the cave, and Faramir was already awakening Frodo, who stirred and then woke up in a start.

The Captain of Ithilien then gestured him to follow, and he asked a guard to guide them.

I turned my gaze to Alaric. "Why did you stop me?"

His gaze darkened. "The Captain ordered it. You have to stay in his quarters."

I tightened my fists. "And what if I refuse?"

Alaric shifted uncomfortably. "Then I'd have to tie you up, Maheran."

I snorted. "As if you could." I tried to peer above his shoulder, but Faramir and Frodo had definitely disappeared. I looked back at his second-in-hand's face. "Very well. I'll wait."

He nodded, and his relief was apparent. "Good. Follow me then."

We walked back the way we came in, until cries made themselves heard not far from us. Someone, or something, was being dragged to Faramir's quarters in the caves.

I pushed Alaric aside and ran forward.

There it was. Being thrown on the ground, treated like an animal without feelings.

Gollum.

No, not Gollum. I realised at once something was off with the creature. It was sobbing, clutching its head.

No, not Gollum.

Smeagol.

"Smeagol..." He hissed himself, and I knew his dark counterpart was back. I fought back a hiss myself. "Why does it cries, Smeagol?"

"Cruel Men hurts us. Master trickeds us!"

"Of course he did! I told you he was tricksy, I told you he was false!"

"Master is our friend! Our friend!"

"Master betrayed us!"

"Nooo! Not your business! Leave us alone!"

"Filthy little Hobbitses! They stole it from us!"

"No, no!"

Then Faramir, with a look of pure desire and somehow madness written on his face, stepped forward. "What did they steal?"

Gollum – because by then it really was it – turned around snarling. "My...precioussss! Aaaarh!"

I shivered and looked up into the Man's face. Now it was clear he had understood what Frodo did carry. And, frightfully enough, he wished it.

I growled and made myself known.

Gollum was being dragged away, and Alaric followed, leaving Faramir and I behind.

He ignored my presence and took off his cloak, wearing nothing but his gondorian armour bearing the White Tree of Minas Tirith. He then sat down and kept his eyes downwards, that look still lingering on his features.

I stepped forward and growled again, the sound echoing around the cave. "I do hope you'll not claim it for yourself?"

His blue eyes, now as stormy as a winter sky, snapped at me. "And how would it be your business, woman?"

I frowned at his choice of words and stepped forward again until I was towering over him. "It is my business if you wish the One Ring to fall into the hands of its true master!"

Faramir stood up, his height towering over mine, but I didn't bulge. "The Ring will go to Gondor!"

"No, it won't!"

By then Faramir drew out his sword and lashed it at me.

I had just the time to grab my dagger at my hip and block his attack. I was stunned.

"By all that is growing on this Earth, Faramir, look at yourself! You're attacking me! Me!"

Nothing I could say would stop his frenzy. His attacks were quicker, and even with my elven strength, his fury made it hard for me not to even wound him.

Finally he slowed down, panting.

I took that opportunity to push myself against him and blocking his sword between our bodies. I threw my dagger and grabbed his face with both hands, making him look into my eyes.

And the magic worked its way again.

Faramir came back to his senses, and once the madness had left, both his arms were around me, hugging me.

"I am sorry. I am so..so sorry."

I caressed his hair until he calmed down. "That's nothing. You're back now."

And then he suddenly seemed to realise the current position in which we were, and he pushed me away, gently enough for me to understand.

I nodded once, and he responded.

Sadly enough, I saw it in his eyes.

Madness gone, but not will. He really would bring the Ring to Minas Tirith.

Before I exited the cave, I turned around once, staring one last time into those blue eyes that I ignored existed hours prior.

"Be careful, Man, or what you wish for will be your ending."


	11. Elvish stalker

**11. Elvish stalker**

I didn't sleep well that night at all, troubled as I was by nightmares all containing Sauron back into power, torturing those I cared the most about. No more trees, no more birds, no more rivers, no more... No more Legolas, no more Gandalf, no more Frodo, no more Samwise. No more Alaric, and no more Faramir.

That man had managed to creep under my skin quicker than anyone or anything else. It was scaring me to death to ever think of him tortured, or dead, lying on the ground, his blue eyes glassy and opening onto thin air...

"Aniha, wake up! Wake up!"

I opened my eyes and started as Frodo's face was so close to mine. He seemed as restless as I was. "Frodo?"

"You were screaming. Think you were having a nightmare."

I touched my face and felt the tears there. I wiped them away and slowly nodded. "Yes, I was having a nightmare. Sorry for disturbing your rest, my dear Hobbit."

"I wasn't sleeping anyway."

"I know." I watched as his sky blue eyes met mine, simply curious. "I feel the burden as do you. The Ring as deadly powers over my kind."

He nodded. "I understand."

I sighed and slowly stood up, grabbing my bow and quiver. "I'm going on a walk."

Frodo stood up as well and wrapped his slender arms around my waist, pulling me into a hug I didn't expect. "You don't intend on coming back. Do not lie." He pulled back. "Go, before Faramir comes to wake us up."

I smiled and ruffled his brown curly hair. "Do take care of yourself, perian."

"I will try. And if I can't, Sam will."

I chuckled slowly. "Aye he will." Then I could feel my gaze darkening. "Goodbye, Frodo."

"Goodbye, Aniha." And he turned around, slid back into his covers and didn't look at me again.

I sighed once more and walked out of the cave.

I pushed a silent hand onto the wet stone, and water talked to me, giving me directions I'd be needing to escape these caves without any Gondorian to see me.

Unfortunately for me, once I was out, a voice came behind me.

"Aniha!"

The pain and disbelief in that voice made it impossible not to turn around, and I met Faramir's pained face from afar.

I shook my head and let myself fall from a cliff onto a lower path, leaving his gaze.

My chest hurt.

_You did the right thing, Maheran. Now hide, and follow their company in the morn. It is the only way._

I nodded to the Earth speaking to me, though it had no eyes. _Thank you, Earth my friend, for your kind counsel._

_You are the only hope of these lands to ever survive this war. Do not ever let a Man cloud your judgment._

I closed my mind to these thoughts and let it wander far away, to where I knew a great battle was preparing.

I did wonder if Gandalf had foreseen this.

The bonding between Maheran and mere human never usually happened.

And yet nothing told me Faramir was a mere human.

I sighed again and jumped down a few paths to get closer to the base of the mounts. Emin Arnen was staring at me from behind, and would I look, I could swear I'd see a black figure far away on the grey stone.

I shook my head, again, off these thoughts.

Faramir had already made me feel insecure enough.

Low on the main path leading north to Osgiliath, I found the ruins of the oliphants and mercenaries that had been killed the day prior. I took the opportunity to pick up anything useful, from arrows – both mine and Gondorian – to supplies.

After half a day, I had ventured far north enough to see the broken towers of Osgiliath far ahead. A Man's eye would not have seen it, but I did.

And these towers screamed at me.

_Do not come here!_

I settled my camp on a hidden path close to the main one, and it was not long before night that I heard them coming.

Heard both their paces and the cries of Gollum, still struggling in his cuffs.

I pushed an instinctive hand onto the soil.

_Are they all there, Earth my dear?_

_ Aye, Maheran, all the Ithilien guard has come down, and the Hobbits and Stoor with it._

I silently growled.

All of them? And who would defend Ithilien without the best of human archers?

I cursed under my breath then stilled when the first scouts passed me. I remained unnoticed, but that might have been because of the late hour and the look of tiredness on every man's face.

Was it a turn of destiny, I couldn't say, but they stopped not five yards away from my hiding place, and settled their tents and campfires. I could easily make Frodo's and Sam's figures in the faint light, and Frodo seemed even more restless than that morning.

The Ring was calling.

It sensed that it was coming closer every day of its release.

When later that night the Men went to sleep, except for Alaric and a youngster called Dòlan, I peaked from behind my rock and started crawling into the mud and wet plants that separated me from the Captain's tent.

It was probably foolish, but I had to make sure he was right.

I remained silent as a ghost, and the watchmen didn't see me when I lifted a corner of the linen and slid in.

Faramir wasn't sleeping. But I already knew that.

And he felt me come in.

That I didn't except.

"Have you come back to kill me?"

I started at his rough and stiff voice. But if he wanted to play angry, I could as well. "Had I come to kill you, Man, you'd already be lying dead on the ground."

He still didn't turn around to face me. And I didn't mind. I really didn't want to stay trapped under his gaze when all I wanted was to yell at him for his imprudence. "Then what have you come here to do, She-Elf?"

Not even once had he called me that, and even in his mouth, it sounded like an insult. "I was merely passing by. I'm on my way north to offer my services to the Dark Lord Sauron. Perhaps that's the only thing I can do, seeing as you are yourself about to give him his precious ring back."

This time Faramir, out of stun and anger also I suppose, whirled around, his eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about? The Ring will go to my father! To Gondor!"

"As if your father had enough willpower not to succumb its trickery!" I wanted to slap him so bad I stood inches from his face, my hand ready to strike. "Faramir, stop being stupid, it doesn't suit you! Do you really believe your father will ever love you more because you bring death to his city?"

Faramir sneered, and to that I effectively slapped him. The look on his face could have been priceless, if he hadn't caught my wrist afterward and almost crushed it. "Never do that again, woman."

"And what power do you have over me? I am a free Elf, and I won't answer to you, especially now!"

He huffed angrily and when I tried to shake my wrist out of his grip, all he did was pulling me into his arms and crushing my bones into a hug. "Never leave again without telling me. I thought you'd die."

His sudden change of mood surprised me so much I didn't immediately process either the position we were in or the words he had spoken.

Then, of its own accord, my hand lifted to wrap around his neck and bring him closer. "Do not do anything foolish, Faramir, son of Finduilas, or I might very well be wounded for life."

And he crushed me even more.

But after a while, I processed everything that had been said, and pushed him away from me, avoiding his gaze and trying to hide a blush I didn't know could exist on my cheeks other than from a long and hard run.

"I'm leaving you now. You asked of me to say, I am."

"Where are you going?"

I shook my head and played dull. "I do not know yet. Where I am needed I suppose. I'll ask the Earth in the morning."

Out the corner of my eye I saw him nod grimly. "Then this is goodbye."

"Yes." I looked down and whirled around, facing the entry – and exit – of his tent. "I hope to see you soon, Man, and in better state."

If I half expected and hoped him to follow me, he didn't.

I don't know what made me sleep that bad that night. The current location of the One-Ring, the growing unexpected feelings the man awakened inside me, or the fact that nothing I could say or do would ever make him change his mind.

But still, I hardly slept that night.

I could have given much to have Faramir crush my ribs once again.


	12. Elvish saviour

_A/N: I really like the fact that you noticed my tribute to Dobby's "I am a free Elf!". That was totally intended when I wrote that part... ^^_

**12. Elvish saviour**

The following morning, the company moved quickly after the sun had risen. Osgiliath might had still been invisible to Men, but they were creeping closer to its borders, and to what hid within its walls.

I could smell it in the air.

An ambush.

Contrarily to what I had told Faramir the previous evening, I perfectly knew where I was heading, and why. I was following them, trying to find a way of diverting Faramir's eyes long enough for Frodo and Sam to escape his watch and the Ring to remain unknown to its Master.

Little did I know that a certain mounted-ride would provide me just that.

An hour after we had left our camp – and I still remained unnoticed by the Men – we reached the high-top of a hill, from which even their eyes could perfectly see Osgiliath, and the dark smoke rising from its ruined towers.

"Look! Osgiliath burns."

I could make the two figures of Frodo and Faramir not far behind, and the voice of the Halfling, caught by the wind, flew to my ears as if he stood beside me. "The Ring will not save Gondor. It has only the power to destroy. Please... Let me go."

Faramir seemed to be breathing hard, and I wondered if both my and Frodo's words were not slowly making their way into his mind. But still. "Hurry!" And Frodo was pushed forward.

The Hobbit seemed so distressed I almost let myself known by letting out a squeak of fury.

"Faramir! You must let me go!"

But nothing he said could change the Man's mind.

We both had failed once more.

As I sighed into the wind, I saw Alaric walk up to his leader, and I stopped breathing to hear what he was saying.

"Faramir, where is the Elf?"

Faramir sighed and threw a glance behind him, where he thought I had been heading – back South – when I was there, on his right, dared he look closer. "She won't be accompanying us anymore. She has made the choice to leave." And pain was evident in his voice.

"But-why?"

And the Gondorian turned away from Emin Arnen, far down south, and looked forward to his devastated aim. "Because she thinks us doomed."

And as he left him behind, Alaric muttered one last sentence. "Then we must be."

As I was about to crawl back behind them, as silent as a breeze, Earth called to me. _Careful, Maheran. The darkness is heavier on these parts of Middle-Earth._

_ Understood._

_ Keep away from the call. _He_ is not far._

And I knew just whom.

The Witch-King of Angmar.

I cursed under my breath.

As the day was far advanced, the company entered Osgiliath at last.

I kept hidden all the way, hiding behind pillars and stopping breathing when someone was close.

The creature Gollum was being pushed forward, and I could see his own distress. Had he smelled the Nazgul coming our way, I wouldn't know.

The ruined city was literally buzzing with people – both Men and Orcs – fighting to the death as Faramir and his men made their way towards the western gate, and the fields of Pelennor.

The second-hand of Faramir, an elderly man I never caught the name of, walked quickly to his Captain. "Faramir! The Orcs have taken the eastern shore. Their numbers are too great. By nightfall we'll be overrun."

But the rest I didn't hear, for I lost every sense in my body for a long moment. Everything I saw, smelled, heard or felt was darkness, and its power almost engulfed me.

I had to lean against a pillar to prevent myself from falling, and reveal myself to the Men standing not two yards away.

When I retrieved my senses, I heard Faramir. "Take them to my father. Tell him: Faramir sends a mighty gift. A weapon that will change our fortunes in this war."

Fortunately for me, my elven curse was swallowed by the ambient cries.

But as I peaked around my pillar, I saw a change in Samwise's eyes.

He was going to talk.

And I prayed to this Earth he would choose his words well.

"D'you wanna know what happened to Boromir? You wanna know why your brother died? He tried to take the Ring from Frodo! After swearing an oath to protect him! He tried to kill him! The Ring drove your brother mad!"

I released a breath when I sensed it. The change.

Oh yes, Master Samwise Gamgee was indeed a very useful fellow.

"Watch out!" I looked up just in time to avoid a huge rock falling my way, and I rolled away from my pillar and behind Faramir's men, who ignored my presence.

As something far more dangerous was coming.

"They're here. They've come."

Every man stopped breathing the moment their eyes fell on Frodo. He was looking properly maddened.

Insane.

And the screech came. The call. Calling for both the Ring and I.

"The Nazgul!" Faramir didn't think much, I could see, as he grabbed Frodo and Sam and pulled them towards a protected porch.

As I followed them, Orcs arrived our way.

And Faramir hadn't noticed one creeping out behind his back, lifting high a sword that could easily cut him in two.

My arrow found its way in its ear and outed on the other side, leaving a trail of blood and greenish brains behind.

Faramir's head snapped back at me, and his blue eyes narrowed at my sight as I walked slowly to him.

"I thought you'd-"

"We'll talk about this later." I turned around and killed every Orc trying to make its way towards us, while Faramir made sure the Halflings were safe.

"Stay here. Keep out of sight." Then he turned to me, nodded once, and looked up into the air. "Then come on!" And another screech.

I clutched my chest as darkness overtook me again, until a small and chubby hand took mine and pulled me to safety with them.

I met Sam's brown eyes. "Alright, Missy?"

I nodded and gulped. "Alright, thanks to you, Sam. Make sure Frodo doesn't move. That thing's calling for us."

"_Us_? You mean, it's calling you too?"

I nodded again. "Watch over Frodo. I'll be fine."

But Frodo had already answered its call, and as I was trying to protect the two precious cargo behind me, I heard Sam's distressed voice.

"What are you doing?" And then another faint screech. "Where are you going?"

I whirled around and narrowed my eyes. Frodo was walking, empty eyed, into the fight, walking to a purpose, and to his end.

"Help me Miss!"

I looked down at Sam. "All I can do is make a path for you to reach him. I am far too tall and too recognizable for the Orcs to let me pass unnoticed."

He nodded. "Then make way."

I smirked. "That I shall, Master Gamgee." And I drew out my long thin sword. "Go."

All the Orcs I slew on my way to where Frodo was heading, a little Hobbit dancing around my legs, rounding piles and piles of dead bodies – both Orcs and Men -, where extremely surprised that their last glimpse into this world would be of an elf-maiden. But the call was still there, and the more I advanced, the more I felt the pressure on my chest heavy.

I stopped as we reached a staircase. "Sam, go on without me. If I follow, I am lost."

He nodded and, with a look of courage I'd never seen on a Halfling before, he set out the stairs.

I whirled around and prevented anyone to follow said stairs.

And my eyes caught a glimpse of Faramir, bow out, an arrow notched, latching it at the grey monster flying behind us.

As he caught my gaze, his features softened and he made his way towards me.

I felt the pressure lessening with every pace he took. Was he the key or was the Nazgul retreating, I never knew.

"Are you alright, Aniha?"

I shook my head. "I'll be happier when this is over, I admit."

He chuckled darkly. "Then, Maheran, will you help me finish this earlier than scheduled?"

I smirked. "With pleasure, Captain."

We both drew our bows, and our arrows seemed to whistled as they flew towards heads, chests, legs, everywhere that could be deadly to those filthy Orcs trying to gain the city.

I reckon someone later told me some of the Gondorians were more afraid of both Faramir and I fighting side to side than of their enemy.

And finally, all the Orcs had been slain, and Faramir and I exchanged a glance, and made our way back to where I could sense Frodo being.

I squeezed the Man's hand, and his eyes found mine and read the pride that he had finally regained his wits. The corner of his lips twitched upwards, and he left me to walk to the two Halflings, both red cheeked for having cried.

He knelt before Frodo. "I think at last, we understand one another, Frodo Baggins."

His second-in-hand shifted uncomfortably on his feet, while Alaric and I shared a nod of understanding as he stood behind Sam. "You know the laws of our country. The laws of your father. If you let them go, your life will be forfeit."

Faramir looked at me. As I smiled – yes, he knew I'd never let anything happen to him – he looked intently at Frodo. "Then it is forfeit. Release them."

Sam brushed Alaric's hand off his shoulder and lashed himself at me. I caught him with a chuckle, and squeezed the little one in my arms. "Be safe, Sam. I'm counting on you to protect him at any cost."

He looked up at me. "Same goes for you, Milady."

I chuckled and let him go, while Frodo looked at me warily.

I walked to him and knelt before him, putting both my hands on his slender shoulders. He was so slim. "Frodo, know this: your journey will never be easy, never be comfortable, never be quiet. But should you keep your friends close to your heart, it might be easier to go on." I kissed each of his cheek and released him.

Gollum coughed once or twice, and ran forward, with high up on his tail Sam, and not far after, the Ring-Bearer.

Faramir's hand found mine not long after their departure. "What now, Maheran?"

I looked up at him. "Now? I'd like to see myself rest for a while."

He nodded and threw me a small smile. "Then Minas Tirith it is."

I smiled back.

_Wow, that was the longest thus far, wasn't it? oO_


	13. Gondorian cities

_A/N: I've just realised that last chapter, I finished the Two Towers... Ouch, time flies! ;)_

**13. Gondorian cities**

Faramir walked me to a horse, and laughed at my expression.

"What is it? The mighty Elf has never ridden before?"

I nudged him in the shoulder, wiping his smirk off his face. "It's been a long time. A very long time. More than four hundred years of this Earth, since a horse last accompanied me." And then I hoisted myself up, while Faramir climbed behind me, taking the reins.

"Sometimes, it's easy to forget you're older than everything I know."

I chuckled. "Sometimes, it's easy to forget I could be your ancestor."

And he made a sound of disgust while the horse slowly picked up a pace, and turned around to set us off towards the huge, white city lying against the Mountains.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

I snapped out of my thoughts and lashed a glance behind my shoulder, seeing the entranced gaze Faramir shot towards his birth-city.

I looked at it more closely.

I had never been to Minas Tirith, not that close anyway, and it had never struck me as beautiful. Seeing its history, I mean.

Although I could see the appeal in huge white walls, embedded with huge statues of old kings, and the courtyard of the palace lying up, up in the sky, where no one could see its limits.

I smiled sadly and nodded. "Aye, it is beautiful."

"My father will like to meet you, of course, but I can perhaps make him wait until tomorrow morning, until you are rested enough to endure his presence."

I nodded. "Denethor is said to be an impatient host. I doubt he will wait. Especially giving who I am, which of course he'll know about."

Faramir slowed the horse down, and I glanced back into his now curious face.

Truth was, he didn't know who I was. Or were, once.

"What do you mean?"

I smiled a little. "I mean, Faramir of Gondor, that I am not your average Elf. I'm afraid you're riding with royalty."

His blue eyes widened. "Royalty? You're of royal blood? Which one?"

I chuckled. "The Wooden-realm, North, far North. Mirkwood you're calling it, though I once called it Greenwood. I am the King's niece, but as Maheran, lost the right to call myself Princess a long time ago." I pushed a finger onto his nose. "I forbid you to ever call me thus."

He smirked. "It'll be hard... Your Majesty."

I shook my head. "I knew it was a bad idea."

We then reached the gates, which opened after a whirl of Faramir's hands to the guards, and our horse entered the crowded walls of the city.

Buzzing with life, and with soldiers.

One of which walked to us. "Captain Faramir. We weren't aware of your arrival."

"It's alright, Beregrond. Just walk with us to the halls." I saw the man, clad in his armour, dark brown hair stuck under a helmet, look at me warily. "This is Aniha of the Wooden-realm. She is my companion." I smiled, both to make Beregrond comfortable, and at the words Faramir used.

The guard of the Citadel climbed onto his horse, and we rode and rode higher and higher into the courtyards, with people yelling welcomes to their beloved Captain, formerly exiled, and children launched me flowers, as if they had been expecting me at all.

Once we reached the palace's courtyard, the horse stopped, as if pushed backwards by a strange force.

I could feel the darkness creeping up here stronger than down in the city.

And when I turned my gaze west, I saw the remains of the White Tree of Gondor, and I knew.

It was the tree which cast such a dark aura on the place.

I turned away from it.

Faramir offered me a hand, and pulled him inside. "Come. I'll show you your room."

I couldn't help but chuckle at his behaviour. "You act like a child!"

He turned to look at me, a strange smile playing onto his lips. "And maybe I am a child. A child who has his first friendly guest in here since the departure of his brother."

My smile turned genuine. "Then, do act like a child, Faramir."

He smiled wider, and pulled me forward.

After what felt like a lifetime, Faramir stopped before a beautifully sculpted dark brown door, which he opened swiftly.

The room was huge, and opened on one side, showing the south, and its still green plains. My elven eyes could perfectly make Emin Arnen, even from that a distance.

An immense bed was waiting for me, and a table waiting for me to sit and eat, while a small cupboard could host my weapons.

It was when I saw the clothes hanging in the wardrobe that I turned to Faramir, and my eyes widened.

He was gazing at me with such affection and longing that I had ever seen on someone. Even Legolas, in his young years, when he had first fallen in love, hadn't had such blazing eyes.

I cleared my throat and kept myself focused on the dresses. "Huh, Faramir, what are these for?"

He smiled and walked to me. "This used to be my mother's room. And these are her old dresses. My father won't have you covered in Orc blood and dirt and hair tangled while you are a lady. You should find something you like."

I snorted. "Do you when I last wore a dress?" As he shrugged, I rolled my eyes. "More than a thousand years ago! And last time I was received by someone important, it was six hundred years ago, and far western!"

Faramir put a comforting hand on mine. "Aniha. Everything will go just fine. Now, do you want someone to help you wash, or-?" At the glare I sent him, he chuckled. "I thought so. My room is two doors across." And he exited the room, closing the door behind him.

I glanced outside and sighed.

I was granted another chance being a woman, and yet I had a feeling it wouldn't be pleasant...

_Chose to cut it there. Leave Aniha in her dress and Denethor for next chapter. ;)_

_ What did you think?_

_ I thought that I'd kind of let Faramir show his emotions more. Imagine, the less-loved son comes home with someone he loves, it's like he has been granted wings! :D I feel for him, really, I do._

_ Oh, and Fill That Box!_


	14. Steward of Gondor

**14. Steward of Gondor**

After more time than I was sure I was allowed, I stepped out of the warm bath I had offered myself, and tried to put on the bloody corset going with the dark blue dress I had chosen.

Finduilas was a little shorter than I was, but the feeling of fabric around my ankles wasn't either disturbing or looking out of place. I was an Elf, after all. Bound to be taller than Humans.

I passed an absent-minded hand through my hair and cringed when I felt ties here and there. Working on that took me more than half an hour, but at the end of my martyrdom, my hair was as smooth as a breeze.

Looking at myself in a mirror, I almost wanted to sneer.

I looked rather like my mother, dressed like that.

I stuck out my tongue at myself.

That's when my guard knocked at the door.

"Aniha? Are you ready?"

I walked to the door, a small smile playing on my lips as I turned the handle.

Faramir's eyes widened as he took me in in the fainting light of day. His blue eyes seemed to twinkle as they roamed up and down, and at last he shook his head and looked at me square in the face, the faintest of blush on his cheek. "I knew you'd look perfect in that."

I chuckled. "When, I didn't." I walked up to him and took his offered arm, leaning slightly to his ear, a smirk plastered on my face. "Stop gaping, Captain."

He chuckled back and started motioning me forward, into the maze of huge corridors, filled with both guards and servants, all bowing to us, serving us "Captain Faramir" and "Princess of Greenwood".

After the first one, I nudged Faramir in the ribs. "You told them, didn't you!"

He chuckled again. "They have means of knowing, you know." He looked down at me, and his smile faltered. "In fact, you were right, Father knew."

My own smile turned mischievous and widened. "Good. Then he'll be a softer bite."

Faramir's eyes widened again, but he didn't comment.

When we reached the magnificent wooden door concealing the hall of the throne, Faramir nodded the guards to open the door, which cried on its hinges.

The hall was huge, as everything in the city. Statues of fallen kings were surrounding the place, and the stone throne, emptied, was flanked with the smaller one of the Steward – while it used to be the throne of the Queen.

Denethor looked nothing like I thought. He looked nothing like his son. Dark hair, slicked onto his head, sick blood-picked eyes, and a mouth used to be turned downwards.

As we reached the spot where Faramir bowed to his father, I stayed still.

Neither my condition back in the forest nor my temper allowed me to bow before that pathetic excuse for a man.

I could almost feel a sneer creep up to my lips as he attempted a twisted smile.

"Lady Aniha, I am glad to meet you."

I faked a smile. "And I you, Lord Denethor."

He got up and slowly walked up to me, completely ignoring his son. He took one of my hands into his freezing-cold ones, and walked me to the dining-table, lying not a yard away. "Come and dine with me."

Faramir didn't seem startled by his words, and took his seat at his father's left, while I was seated on Denethor's right.

The food consisted into meat – chicken, horse even – and few vegetables. An Elf of course didn't eat what used to be living things, so I grabbed two small tomatoes, and a loaf of bread.

Denethor completely ignored the fact that I wasn't really happy with what I had been served with.

Faramir, on the other hand, smirked a little and asked a servant to bring lettuce. I thanked him with a nod and a smile.

"I must say, Milady, that I am at lost concerning your ascendancy. How exactly are you of royal blood?"

I really wanted to slap that air of superiority off his face, but again breathed deeply before sipping on my wine and explaining myself – though he already knew, of course, whose daughter I was.

"My mother is King Thranduil's youngest sister, Milord. Thranwël is her name."

"So you are the King of Mirkwood's niece."

"Aye, I am a Princess of Greenwood."

Faramir winked at me, while his father, eyes cast down onto his plate, chewed onto a piece of meat. "Well, I have to say, Milady, if you wished to find a suitor here, you're not lucky. My son's not here, and won't return for a long time."

I eyed Faramir, whose gaze darkened.

I glared at Denethor, who remained oblivious of the fact, and huffed. "I am not here for that purpose, Milord."

"Then why? Surely you Elves don't come to the Cities of Men without a purpose?"

Anyone else would have been offended by the tone he used, but I was far beyond offended at that time of diner. "I had never come here before. And an Elf's skills are always appreciated in the House of Healings. I thought I might offer my services as well as, I selfishly admit, visit the city."

"Good. Then Faramir will show you the city."

And Denethor the Steward remained silent for the rest of the evening.

When I was done eating, and drinking – and it took me a long time, I hadn't eaten that well in a century, Faramir offered me his arm again, and walked me back to my room.

But I didn't wish to be left alone yet.

"Faramir, isn't there a place where we could talk? I'm too angry to sleep."

He smiled sadly. "I'm sorry about what he dared say to you."

I looked up into his face, and pushed the boldness to lift a hand to his cheek, trying to wipe off his concern. "Your father's an idiot. Obviously you're taking from your mother."

He chuckled darkly. "Unfortunately, Milady, the library's closed for the night, and it is far too late to wander in the gardens."

I thought for a moment, then looked around for any sign of life. "Right." And I pulled him inside my room.

Faramir's eyes widened. "Aniha, you're not-"

"Faramir, we've been in far more indecent positions since we met." His eyes cast downwards, and he blushed again. "Sit. Please."

And he did.

I went to rest against the rail of the balcony, looking into the horizon, breathing the night air as it was softer up there than it was down down in the fields.

"So, what did you want to speak about?"

I sighed. "No idea. I just don't want to be left alone. Strange, isn't it? I've been alone for a century, and I'm acting as a spoiled child."

I heard him get up and walk to me, though he remained at a proper distance. "Sometimes it's good to act selfishly."

I smiled into the night. "Yes, I can imagine. I'm not used to it, that's all."

"Tell me then, before this century, where were you?"

I breathed deeply once more, and turned around, facing him as his face was hidden in the darkness of my room. "Here and there. But mostly around Bree. A city of Men on the borders of the Shire. There used to be a good bunch of thieves running that way, and it took me a good ten years before the area was cleansed."

He chuckled. "Between that and helping us defeat Haradrims..."

"Oh, but I've taught Rohirrims how to handle a horse as well. Though it was a long long time ago. They called me the Woodwitch." I chuckled at the thought. Then remembered something. "Faramir, have you heard news of Helm's Deep?"

Though I couldn't see his eyes, I felt his surprise. "No, none, why? Has something happened to our western neighbours?"

I advanced in the darkness, rounded him, and went to light some candles. "If I am not mistaken, a battle happened there, last night or a night prior. Isengard had been emptied."

"How do you know of this?"

"I met my cousin and his companions on my way to Ithilien."

"Your cousin?"

"Legolas Greenleaf. He travels with Mithrandir."

Faramir's eyes reached recognition. "Ah, yes. The Fellowship of the Ring."

I nodded again.

Faramir stared at me for a long moment, and I stared at him, wondering.

Then he cleared his throat, and broke the spell. "I really should go. I'll see you in the morning. You can put your clothes back, if they are dry. We'll ride a little, or I'm not called Faramir." He walked to me, took my hand into his bigger one, and slowly lifted it to kiss my knuckles, though his blazing eyes didn't leave mine. "Good night, Aniha."

"Good night, Faramir." My whisper was soft as the breeze, but he caught it.

Leaving me with a small smile.

My heart was beating harder than it had in an Age of this Earth.

I pushed a hand to my chest and let myself fall onto my bed.

Damn.


	15. Took's foolishness

_A/N: Sorry again for the delay, school has started again, and it took me time to write... ^^ To everyone around here who has the blood of a Grammar-Nazi in their veins (I have, I'll admit, for my own language), I must apologize for the horrid spelling mistake I made the previous chapter. Indeed, Stewart and Steward aren't the same thing. ;) As for Isengard instead of Ysenguard, forgive me, I'll stick to the French spelling, find it more fetching. :p_

**15. Took' foolishness**

The following morning, I woke with the sun grazing my skin through the soft curtains of my room's balcony.

I smiled to myself as I stood up and felt the sweet taste of the wind on my lips, still a little wet with the rising of day.

My smile faltered as my eyes travelled East.

Over there, far in the horizon, stood a great dark cloud, buzzing with evil, that seemed to expand with every second passing. I growled between my teeth.

As I was getting dressed with my usual clothing, dried from the day prior, and sheathed my sword at my hip – my bow was lying against the wall, next to the door – a serving girl entered the room and settled down a plate for my breakfast, smiling kindly to me in greetings.

I smiled as I recognized Faramir's touch.

Apple slices, and a lemon tea, invigorating indeed.

At the very same moment I settled down my cup, a soft knock on the door made my escort known. I walked to it and opened, a small smile grazing my lips.

Faramir's face was grave.

My eyes darkened at this sight. "Faramir?"

He looked up into my face and sighed. And thoughts passed through us once more.

I could feel my eyes widening as I relived the conversation he had with his father even earlier that morning.

Denethor wished him to return to Osgiliath without delay.

"I really begin to hate your father."

My whisper didn't go amiss, and Faramir chuckled darkly. "I can't fathom why..." Then he took my hand and kissed my knuckles, as he had done the night prior. "Do find some occupation. You are ordered to stay." And as the words left his lips, I saw indeed two guards stationed in front of my door.

I gritted my teeth and nodded Faramir farewell, as I couldn't do much else, spied on as we were.

As he walked away in the corridor, though, I couldn't help but call back. "Do be careful!"

I could swear I heard him sneer.

I spent the morning in the library, revelling in the huge number of elvish parchments the Gondorians had acquired during this Age.

I was settling down a linen book concerning Arnor when a clamour came from the courtyard, not far from me.

"Mithrandir! Mithrandir has come!"

I gasped and sprang to my feet at once, running towards the dead tree, ignoring its evil glow, and searching within the maze of streets below for a white horse.

I quickly found out it already had been stabled, for Mithrandir was standing at the doorstep of Denethor's hall.

And as I tried to follow, the door shut before my eyes, but not before I caught a glimpse of a tiny being next to the tall wizard.

_Perian_. I smiled as I walked around the place to enter the hall, as silent as a breeze, from one side-door.

Just in front of the King's throne was standing Gandalf-the-White, his long beard flowing as he advanced, his stick echoing on the marble floor as he stopped.

Next to him though still a little behind trotted a Hobbit, his curly red hair bouncing above his shoulders, his blue eyes taking in the sight of Denethor. He strikingly looked like Frodo. They had to be related in some way.

Then I noticed the silence, the thick and dark silence filling the whole place.

And I saw.

And silently gasped as I saw.

For Denethor was stroking in his hands the broken horn of Gondor.

He knew about Boromir.

"Hail Denethor, son of Echthelion, Lord and Steward of Gondor."

I couldn't help but smile as this deep voice I had missed. Yes, missed. Although I had met him not that long prior, the White Wizard had had quite an effect on me.

"I come with tidings on this dark hour, and with counsel."

Denethor still didn't answer for a moment, his head trembling with anger.

"Perhaps you have come to explain this." And he separated the two halves of the horn, the Halfling's eyes widening at the sight. "Perhaps you have come to tell me why my son is dead."

Gandalf remained silent, though slightly taken aback at the Steward's knowledge.

"Boromir died to save us, my kinsmen and me." I started at the slight accent the perian bore, as well as at the words he spoke. I had never before heard what had happened to Boromir, apart from where it had happened. "He fell defending us from many foes."

The small figure trotted forward and knelt in front of Denethor, Gandalf calling him back. "Pippin!"

"I offer you my service, such as it is, in payment of this debt." I sighed to this little one's foolishness, he who clearly didn't understand yet what kind of person the Steward was.

"This is my first command to you: How did you escape and my son did not, so mightier man as he was?"

"The mightiest man may be slain by one arrow. And Boromir was pierced by many." At that Denethor closed his eyes in pain, as well as gasped.

Gandalf, out of annoyance, pushed the Hobbit aside and advanced, facing the mourning Man. "Get up!" Then back to Denethor. "My lord, there will be a time to grieve for Boromir, but it is not now. War is coming. The Enemy is on your doorstep!" Denethor looked up, hatred now replacing grief. "As Steward you are in charge of the defence of this city, where are Gondor's armies? You still have friends. You are not alone in this fight. Send word to Théoden of Rohan, light the beacons."

"You think you are wise, Mithrandir. Yet for all your subtleties you have not wisdom. Do you think the eyes of the White Tower is blind? I have seen more than you would know. With your left hand you would use me as a shield against Mordor, and with your right you'd wish to supplant me! I know who rides with Théoden of Rohan." Gandalf's eyes widened, as did mine. "Oh yes, words reached me of this Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and I tell you now: I will not bow to this Ranger from the North!"

"Authority is not given to you to refuse the return of the King, Steward!"

Denethor bolted upright, glaring at Gandalf now. "The realm of Gondor is mine! Ans know this!"

Mithrandir shot a glance in my direction, acknowledging my presence before turning on his heels and beckoning the Hobbit to follow.

I sighed before myself disappearing the way I had come.

I met the White Wizard in the courtyard.

"Mithrandir!"

He whirled around and his blue eyes shone with relief. "Aniha, my dear friend, how relieved I am to see you here. At least there is someone sensible within these walls when Faramir is away."

I tilted my head to the side. "You know Faramir?"

Gandalf's eyes glistened, but he didn't answer. Instead, he gestured the red-haired Halfling to come closer.

The little one's blue eyes widened at my sight, and a blush crept onto his cheek when I smiled in return.

"This is Peregrin Took of the Shire. Pippin, meet Aniha, of Greenwood, Legolas' cousin."

Pippin's eyes widened even more and a smile stretched his lips. He was much cuter than Frodo this way, and the other Hobbit was already a little kid to hug. "Legolas' cousin? How nice to meet you miss!"

I chuckled. "And how nice meeting you, Master Pippin. Would you, by any chance, be related to Frodo?"

Gandalf's eyes glistened again. "You have met the Rangers of Ithilien."

I smiled but didn't say a thing. Pippin nodded. "Aye, Frodo has Took's blood in him, though the genealogy would bore you."

I chuckled then looked up at Gandalf. "What brings you here, Mithrandir?"

He sighed. "Thanks to this little one, we've had news. The Enemy plans on taking the city to start his taking of the world."

I looked at Pippin. "You? How?"

Pippin blushed again, and Gandalf sighed once more. "He looked into Saruman's Palantir."

I hissed and jumped back, the memory creeping onto my skin like poison.

I looked at Pippin with a whole 'nother gaze.

Fool of a Took.


	16. Mordor's lies

_A/N: I've made a plan for the following chapters. Unfortunately, I hadn't realised there wasn't so little more to tell to this story (as these four will be considerably longer than usual), so, dear readers, there is only four more chapters to this story before the end... :'(_

**16. Mordor's lies**

That evening, I asked to be served diner in Gandalf and Pippin's room, next to mine.

As I sat on the bed, nibbling on a piece of bread and watching Pippin drink his ale with such a quick pace he should have drowned a thousand times, the wizard was standing on the balcony, his pipe smoking at his lips, his face bearing concern.

I stopped eating and watched him carefully, trying to read between the lines.

Pippin then turned to the table where was laid his Guard of the Citadel's outfit, and drew out the sword. "So, this is a kind of ceremonial position!" He sheathed it again. "They don't actually expect me to do any fighting..." I avoided his gaze as he searched for mine, but could see he had peaked on my sad eyes.

Such adorable beings as Hobbits should never be included in wars like this. Not ever.

"Do they?"

Gandalf half-turned around, slightly amused, by the look of it. "You're in the service of the Steward now, you'll have to do as you're told, Peregrin Took." I smiled at that, as I caught the impression that Pippin was the kind of person never to listen.

He looked much like myself as a young Elf, in fact.

Which wasn't a good point.

Gandalf coughed uneasily a few times, and the young lad offered him a goblet of water, leaving me alone inside while he joined his friend outside.

I saw – or felt – Pippin's unease rise a little more as he glanced to the skies.

I sighed and looked at my hands. I knew what he saw. And it grieved me too.

"There's no more stars!" He turned to Gandalf. "Is it time?"

I sighed once more. "Yes, Pippin, I'm afraid it is."

His blue eyes crossed mine, darkened with fear and sorrow for his friends, and he turned back to the horizon, leaning on the railing. "It's so quiet."

"It's the deep breath before the plunge."

"I don't want to be in a battle." At that I got up and came to rest beside Pippin, a hand on his shoulder, pulling him to me, sharing my warmth with the little one. "But waiting on the edge of one that I can't escape is even worse." Gandalf walked to us and shared a look with me. "Is there any hope Gandalf? For Frodo and Sam?"

"There never was much hope."

I would have sneered at him for such boldness in front of Frodo's friend and cousin, but I could hear his distress as much as Pippin's.

"Just a fool's hope." Then his gaze travelled East to Orodruin, and I saw as well as he the spits of lava coming up the mountains. "Our Enemy is ready. His full strength's gathered. Not only Orcs, but Men as well. The legions of Haradrims from the South, mercenaries from the coast, all will answer Mordor's call. This will be the end of Gondor as we know it. Here the hammers will fall hardest. If the river is taken, if the garrison of Osgiliath falls, the last defence of this city will be gone."

I growled under my breath. "If that old fool had let me go with them-"

"Denethor was wise, for once, not to let you interfere with the course of events, Aniha. No one knows what Middle-Earth would have been if you had fallen..."

I could feel my gaze darken as my temper rose. "Still, I feel like a bird in a cage."

"I know." And Gandalf shot me a kind smile which soothed me a little.

"But we have the White Wizard. That's got to count for something." I looked down to Pippin, and a small smile played on his lips as well. But Gandalf didn't smile. At all. "Gandalf?"

"Sauron is yet to reveal his deadliest weapon. The one who will lead Mordor's army in war. The one, they say, no living man can kill." A shudder ran p my spine. "The Witch-King of Angmar. You've met him before. He stabbed Frodo on Weathertop." I growled a little. Weathertop. Dreadful place that was. "He is the Lord of the Nazgûl, the greatest of the Nine, and Minas Morgul is his lair."

I sighed. "Stop that, Gandalf, please."

The wizard snapped his head at me, then his blue eyes widened in reckoning. "Forgive me, my dear, I had forgotten of your affliction."

Pippin looked at me, concerned. "Why? What has happened to you?"

I smiled sadly. "I as well have met the Witch-King, way before he even died and was awakened by the Necromancer in Dol Guldur. His blade entered my flesh as it did Frodo. But the affliction on an Elf never fades."

"Aniha is a Maheran, Pippin, a witch among Elves, as is Lady Galadriel her own way. But the Maheran were long believed to be evil, and therefore their powers are linked to the dark."

I nodded. "I can sense the Ring, and the Nazgûl cries call me as well as they call It."

Pippin squeezed my hand in his little one. "Do not worry, we'll stop speaking about that, and I can protect you anyway."

I chuckled. "I daresay I will protect you, little one, but you are very brave to offer help. Thank you." He blushed at that, and we remained silent for a long moment.

And then something pulled me so strongly that if Pippin hadn't been holding me I would have jumped over the railing towards it.

Far East, the greenish light of Minas Morgul was awakened.

Pippin started panicking as well as pulling me back, and Gandalf, whirling me around, stared hard into my eyes, speaking my mother tongue.

_ "Come back into the light, Maheran. The Evil isn't for you."_

Slowly, very slowly, the pulling sensation faded, and I almost stumbled onto poor Pippin, who kept onto squeezing my hand.

"You'll be alright, Aniha. Everything's alright."

"You should go to bed, child. You are weary, and tomorrow will be a long day."

I nodded and put a hand to my forehead. I was cold. "Thank you, Gandalf. And you, Pippin."

The Hobbit held my hand all the way to my bed, and left me quickly after breathing me a goodnight.

My dreams were not easy though. I kept on feeling something pull at my chest, like a low gong calling, until I realised I was listening to my heartbeat.

The morrow came swiftly, and I hadn't rested much when I woke and prepared.

The day was dark again, darker than the day before, but Minas Tirith didn't seem to notice.

Gandalf and Pippin had gone on a mission to light the beacons, as I silently made my way towards my own aim.

For I had to see. Had to know. Had to let him know.

Denethor's Palantir laid on a silken cloth, cherished as a friend, black as night, with flames dancing around it.

I watched it from afar, dreading its own magic, and remembering with pain the sole day I had watched into Saruman's. I had been under Lord Elrond's care for more than a week before my mind returned to the light.

I breathed deeply once or twice and took two long strides, pushing an uneasy hand onto the cold black globe.

As soon as my skin made contact, the Palantir glued itself to me and its depths consumed me.

A dark, loud laugh reached me.

"Maheran. At last."

I growled. "Sauron."

"Have you decided to stop being a child and join me?"

I snorted. "No. I have decided to face you, so to speak, and tell you you'll never have me. Ever."

"Oh, you seem so sure for such an easily broken thing. Have you thought of what you might gain from such an alliance?" I snorted again. "Have you then thought of who I would spare?"

"You should know by now that such bargain doesn't work with me."

"Even when it concerns the Captain? That pathetic Man you've been swooning over ever since you met him? Even him?" I felt a pang in my chest. How did he know?

Sauron let out another laugh as his lidless eye bore into me. "What is he trying to achieve now? Retaking Osgiliath? Brave, but to no avail. Haven't you heard yet? The Nine are coming." A shudder ran up my spine as I realised he was telling the truth. Already Osgiliath was doomed to fall. "Tell me, why should Faramir of Gondor survive?"

I sensed anger, rage even, flow over me as I glared into the Palantir's depths. "I will not join you, Sauron the Great, even if everyone I love is doomed to die. Because sooner or later, you will die. And I would beg on sooner." And with that, I launched the Palantir back onto its cushion.

Panting, and raging.

How had he known?

Then, as I realised the day had passed without my notice, a screech bore into my soul, and I drew out my bow in reflex.

"Faramir." I ran outside, onto the courtyard, to see riders and men on foot running towards the city, the Nazgûl playing with them as they killed some and not the other.

Then the Gates opened, and a single white horse went out.

"The White Wizard is here." I realised Beregrond was standing next to me.

"Yes, he is." And we both watched as the wizard drew up his staff, and a blinding light as fiery as a sun drove the beasts of Angmar away. Gandalf then escorted the Men back into Minas Tirith, and Beregrond and I ran down the many layers of the white walls to welcome our friends.

I arrived there first, Beregrond behind, panting heavily. "You run faster than a horse, Milady."

I didn't answer, for Faramir was climbing off his horse and walking to Gandalf.

"Mithrandir! They broke our defences. They've taken the bridge and the West bank. Soon the Orcs will be crossing the river."

A blond Man advanced. "It's as the Lord Denethor foresaw. Long has he predicted this doom."

"Foreseen and done nothing!" Gandalf pushed aside his cloak, revealing Pippin. Faramir's eyes widened as they took in the little one.

The corners of my lips lifted. He knew.

"Faramir? This isn't the first Halfling to have crossed your path..."

He shook his head, and my smile grew wider. "No."

Pippin grinned. "You've seen Frodo and Sam?"

To that he nodded. "Where? When?"

"In Ithilien. Not two days ago." They both smiled at that, relieved as they were. "Gandalf... They've taken the road to the Morgul Veil."

"And then the pass of Cirith Ungol." He nodded again.

"What does that mean? What's wrong?"

"Faramir, tell me everything. Tell me all you know."

He took a deep breath, but I stepped forward, stopping both of them. "This isn't the right kind of conversation for a soldier's courtyard, Gandalf the White! Come, and I will tell you more, for I've been there also, and Faramir must be tired."

To my utter surprise, Gandalf nodded and I climbed behind Faramir on his horse, clutching his waist as if he would be slip through my fingers.

"I'm alright, Aniha."

I sighed into his back. "Yes, but I have a feeling you won't be."

To that he briefly squeezed my hand onto his waist.

The climb back to the palace was brief, and Faramir didn't miss a moment in rushing to Gandalf's rooms, and once we were all settled, he motioned me to talk.

I smiled at him and took a deep breath before starting. "Gandalf, Frodo and Sam have taken Gollum as their guide."

The wizard's eyes widened. "What do you say?"

"They have found him in the Emyn Muil, if my information have been right. When Faramir found them, it was following, hiding, but loyal to Frodo. I think, as former Ring-Bearer, the softer side of Smeagol should have gone up."

"But?"

"But the Rangers weren't too nice with him. Gollum came back. I'm afraid he now drives them into Shelob's lair."

"Shelob's dead."

"No, it is not. Of that I am sure, Gandalf. All we can do now is hope. Hope that Sam will know best."

Pippin nodded frantically. "Sam always does what's best."

I sighed. "Let's hope so."

Then Gandalf dismissed us, and Faramir walked to the Halls where is father would surely chastise him for his failure.

I myself sat on the walls near the White Tree, and glimpsed into the horizon, trying to see past the hills and slopes towards my beloved lost home.

Never before had the will to go back to Mirkwood been so strong...


	17. Elvish wrath

_A/N: I think most of you will appreciate the first part of this chapter... And I have to thank each and every one of you who reviews and leaves such nice encouragements... :)_

**17. Elvish wrath**

About ten minutes after I had settled outside to think, Pippin came to fetch me, needing help to put on his Guard outfit. He was due to take his oath right after Faramir was done talking with his father.

Once the little one was clad into his black armour bearing the White Tree, we went to sit in the corridor next to the Hall, and he started reciting his oath while I was counting the minutes Faramir had passed being no doubt chastised at by Denethor.

And half-an-hour passed.

And Pippin started muttering to himself. "What were you thinking, Peregrin Took? What service can a Hobbit offer such a great lord of Men?" He sighed.

I put a hand on his thigh. "Many more than you can imagine, my dear Pippin. Halflings could teach all other races lessons of loyalty and purity of heart."

The corners of his lips twitched, when a third voice added itself to ours.

"It was well done!" I looked left, and here came Faramir, slowly advancing towards us, his blue eyes settled on Pippin and none other. "Gender steeds should not be checked with cold counsel. You're to join the Tower Guard!"

Pippin got up and faced the Captain, his cheeky side coming back. "I didn't think they would find any livery that would fit me."

"It once belonged to a young boy of the city. A very foolish one. Who wasted many hours slaying dragons instead of attending to his studies."

A smile crept onto my lips, and a soft chuckle escaped it.

"This was yours?"

"Yes, it was mine. My father had it made for me."

"Well, I'm taller than you were then. Though, I'm not allowed to grow anymore, except sideways."

Faramir chuckled, retaliated by Pippin and I. "Never fitted me either. Boromir was always the soldier." Then his gaze darkened a shade, tormented by something his father had told him, though I couldn't make up the words as he wasn't returning my gaze. "They were so alike he and my father... Proud... Stubborn even. But strong."

"I think you have strength... Of a different kind. And one day your father will see it."

I out a hand onto Pippin's shoulder. "And these are words far wiser than anyone, including yourself, would have thought you able to think, Peregrin my friend. Now come, let's not make the proud Steward wait for us."

Pippin took a deep breath before trotting forward, while Faramir and I exchanged a gaze while following him.

"Do you really agree with what he said?"

I nodded. "Aye. Your father will see sense. When his grief is easier. Until then, I'm afraid you'll have to survive hours and days of harsh words."

We remained silent as we entered the hall by a side door, and Pippin came to kneel in front of Denethor while Faramir and I stayed back, at a respectful distance, a small smile of encouragement on my lips.

Pippin struggled with his words, but took his oath like a brave Hobbit he was. Denethor, on the other hand, as he outstretched his hand for the little one to kiss his ring, shot us a dark gaze full of resent.

Then he went to sit at his table, leaving us all three standing awkwardly, watching him feast.

Then Denethor of Gondor spoke. And anger rose inside me.

"I do not think we should so likely abandon the outer defences. Defences that your brother long held intact."

"What would you have me do?"

"I would not have yielded the river and Pelennor and fought! Osgiliath must be retaken."

"My Lord, Osgiliath is overrun."

"Much must be risked in war. Is there a Captain here who still has the courage to do his Lord's will?"

I nearly growled before Faramir's hand squeezed mine for peace. "You wish now that our places had been exchanged. That I had died and Boromir had lived."

"Yes, I wish that."

Faramir's hand weakened in mine, and I could feel sadness wash over him as he spoke next. "Since you're robbed of Boromir, I will do what I can in his stead." Then he let go of my hand, bowed to his father, looked at me one final time and walked out of the room. "If I should return, think better of me, father."

"That will depend on the manner of your return."

I remained frozen by anger, and Pippin sensed it.

"My Lord, may I ask to escort Lady Aniha back to her room, for I sense her distress."

Denethor merely looked up. "Yes, do escort the Lady back to her room. I wished she had never come. Her soul is darker than a Morgul blade."

I sighed before leaving, Pippin trotting at my side until we reached my room.

"Thank you, Pippin. You can leave now."

"Are you sure-?"

"I'm fine, really. Thank you for everything." I bowed to kiss the top of his head, and left him go back to his Lord, as red as a summer's rose.

I didn't even enter my room, instead walked two doors across to Faramir's.

A soft knock, and the door opened immediately.

"I knew you would come. But there is nothing you can say to change my mind."

I sighed. He was already putting his mailcoat over his Ranger outfit. "I knew I couldn't change much. I wished I could come."

He shook his head vehemently. "No. Father would say that whatever will happen will have been your doing. Do not give him the means to harm you."

I sat on his bed, vanquished. "Your father will open his eyes later than he should have."

Faramir came to kneel before me and took my hands. His blue eyes bore into me and suddenly, a wave of affection flew over me, coming from him. "At least I would have met you. That is an achievement."

I smiled sadly. "In almost two thousand years of life, I had never met anyone as infuriating and as understanding as you are. Sometimes it still frightens me."

His thumb began soothing the back of my hands, and his gaze became aflame. "Aniha-"

Beregrond chose that moment to come in. "My Lord, pardon me, but the horses are ready."

Faramir sighed and let go of me, before nodding to the guard and sheathing his sword. "Very well."

I sensed he would have left without another word – he was not someone for goodbyes, as wasn't I – but decided against it.

Right before he reached the door, I imposed myself between them, closed the wooden panel behind me, put both my hands on each side of Faramir's face, and pulled him down for a kiss.

I had never been kissed before in my long long life. Not even once in my younger years.

But right then, with the Man's lips onto mine, moving with delicious intent, I couldn't do anything else than wonder why I hadn't been doing that sooner.

All too soon, we drew out of breath. Faramir pulled away, keeping his blazing eyes levelled with mine.

"I will come back. One way or the other."

I nodded calmly, though my insides were anything but. "Deal."

He smiled sadly before gently pushing me away and disappearing in the mazes of corridors of his beloved city.

I wept for a long time before coming to sit on my balcony, refusing to stare at anything else but Osgiliath.

About two hours later, a single horse came back to the citadel.

Bearing one single horseman. And not far behind them, the armies of Mordor were spreading fast onto the field.

I let out a cry and ran to the doors.

When I reached it, Faramir was already carried into the courtyard. Denethor was running towards him, and for once, he was truly concerned about his youngest son.

"Faramir?"

Behind him, the same blond man I had seen the day prior spoke up. "They were outnumbered. None survived."

Then Pippin, running from behind me, whispered in true awe. "He's breathing!"

Denethor, out of pure illness of the mind, started speaking nonsense. "My sons are dead. My line has ended!"

Pippin got out of my grasp and got to Faramir's side, stroking his hair as gently as he could. "He's alive!"

"Alas, as Steward, I failed!"

"He needs medicine my Lord!"

"My line has ended!"

"My Lord!"

I came to rest beside him, tears flowing down my cheeks as I couldn't stop them. "Quiet Pippin. The Steward has lost his last senses. Better not shout too much or he'll have our heads." Then I pushed a hand onto Faramir's forehead, and closed my eyes.

I had done that a thousand times before. Bonding with someone, not to take control, but to ease their pain.

I was an Elf. I was healing fast.

So, I took one of Faramir's arrow wound onto myself, but couldn't do more, as Pippin moved my hand away.

"It is no good if you are wounded, my Lady." Then, with a nod of the head, he showed me my already stained tunic. The wound had been deeper than I had thought.

And the second one Faramir had bore was near to his heart...

Cries began to echo around the city as catapults were taking down the white walls of the fairest of the Men's realms.

I could feel my eyes darken with loathe. I looked down at the young one. "Pippin, I give you Faramir's care. Do not leave his side unless you are needed elsewhere."

And I ran, ran, ran down the many courtyards, shoving away women and children running about to find shelter. I ran, ran, ran towards the walls above the gates, and rejoined with Beregrond.

"My Lady, should you be here?"

I rolled my eyes. "Do not ask if I should be here. Thank me for being ready to fight for your blood." I notched an arrow and released it, and while it found its way in a troll's eyes far away, I turned to the Man. "Find me the best arrows you can find. I will probably run out soon."

He nodded without question and ran away.

Many archers were on the walls, but while all the Man could shoot at were Orcs, I could easily reach the further of their troops. Many trolls were down before Beregrond came back with an armful of arrows.

Then they came.

The Nine.

Screeching into the air as if they could sense a potent enemy within their foes lines.

"Aniha!"

I whirled around, a flame dancing in my eyes as I beheld Gandalf astride Shadowfax.

"Come up with us, this courtyard will not hold long!"

I shook my head, a nasty smile on my lips. "Nay, Mithrandir. This is the perfect place to be seen."

"You have already showed yourself enough, young lady! If I have to take you by force, I will!" And when I merely turned back around, the horse's hooves were before me, and Gandalf's staff made contact with my head, sending me temporarily into darkness.

When I opened my eyes again, a part of the battle had gone without me. It had the effect of making me rage quickly, get up to my feet and growl to anything that crossed my path, human or Orc.

Then a little voice, muffled by the ambient cries and inaudible by anything else than an Elf, rose next to me.

"Lady Aniha?"

I whirled around and found Pippin, standing next to me, his short sword stained with dark blood.

"Pippin? What the hell are you doing here? I told you to stay with Faramir!"

He seemed to shrink down into the soil. "Gandalf called us out to fight."

I sighed and knelt in front of him. "I admire your courage, my dear one, but this is no place for someone like you. I would despair if any harm came upon you. Please go back to the Hall."

Something in my eyes might have triggered, for he nodded, sheathed his dagger again, and ran up the stairs towards the Tree courtyard.

I sighed in relief when his small figure disappeared, then took out my bow and twirled around to face my foe.

Many Orcs died by my hand, many even didn't see the arrow coming for where I stood. Only a few managed to surprise me and try to kill me sword against sword.

All failed.

Many among Men cried to the others in praise for me. "The fair lady of Greenwood is helping us! Her bow never fails! She will lead us to victory!"

But the night had come, and Orcs moved faster under the stars.

And we had to retreat behind the last door.

It was not long before midnight that Pippin came running back to me once again, his blue eyes widened in pure fear.

"Aniha, Aniha! He's trying to kill Faramir!"

I whirled around, eyes widened as much. "What do you say?"

"Denethor will burn himself and Faramir on a pyre!"

My thoughts processed quickly. I had no authority upon Denethor of Gondor. Only one person inside these walls had. "Go, find Gandalf! Quickly!"

Pippin nodded once, and trotted behind Men and Orcs alike in search for his friend.

I for my part couldn't help but gaze up to the Hall here and there.

And dawn had come.

So had the Rohirrims.

When the horn of Edoras blew into the field, the Men around me started to rejoice, even in their current position.

"Yes, sons of Nùmenor, the Riders have come. Now fight with a lighter heart! Your end is not yet upon you!"

This time, we were the last to hold the city. A mere hundred of Men, I, and Gandalf and Pippin, rejoining us after their saving of the man I loved.

This had made me smile. No matter what came to me, Faramir was safe.

Pippin looked into my face as I sat next to him, the thumping of the troll trying to break the gates echoing around us. "You seem very calm, Miss."

I smiled mischievously. "I've run out of arrows."

Gandalf chuckled. "Oh oh! Well, I wouldn't wish to be any Orc behind those gates that will fall on your path, young one. For that sword of yours is as deadly as many of your arrows."

I chuckled back. "Aye, so it seems."

We remained silent a few moments, the cheeky conversation quickly wearing away as hope deserted us.

"I didn't think it would end this way."

I looked down at Pippin, who had tears threatening to leave his eyes blurring their blue.

"End? No, the journey doesn't end here! Death is just another path. One that we all must take. The grey-red curtains of this world pull back, and all turns to silver-glass. And then you see it."

"What? Gandalf? See what?"

I closed my eyes, knowing exactly what, and remembering.

"White shores, and beyond...the far green country, and through a swift sunrise."

"Well... That doesn't sound bad..."

"No... No, it isn't."

Then the doors cracked, and Gandalf and I shared a look, and the wizard unsheathed Glamdring, and Pippin and I clutched our swords. And our world ended as the gates cracked open and a sea of Orcs flew inside the last free courtyard of Minas Tirith.

For long moments we fought. Pippin was wounded a few times, fortunately not so deeply as either Gandalf or I were there to protect him.

I myself got hurt more than I could count.

But it wouldn't be remembered that a Maheran of Greenwood would die that easily.

That's when they came.

A sea of dead soldiers, greenish as the water in the Dead Marshes.

Waving over us and killing all foe in their path.

We had won.


	18. Mordor's ending

_ A/N: This chapter was a real hell to write. I rewrote it like three times, and even this one doesn't please me as it should. Anyway, it is the last chapter, I'm afraid, as long as it is._

_ The epilogue will be uploaded as soon as it is done. I need a few researched first._

_ Try not to cry too much, there are a few passages good for it..._

**18. Mordor's ending**

Soon, as we were given our senses back, Pippin looked up at me with a huge grin.

"We've won, haven't we? It's over?"

I chuckled. "No, my dear Pippin, it's not over yet. But the Enemy has been wounded, maybe even fatally so."

But as day descended on us and a pale sun shone, the little Hobbit started panicking, a thousand thoughts going into his head.

"Merry! I have to find Merry!"

And he rushed ahead.

I made it easy to stop him. "Peregrin Took, you can't possibly run bare footed onto a battle field! You'll hurt yourself." I sheathed my sword and picked up my bow on the ground. "Come, climb onto my back, I'll carry you."

He grinned widely after that, and jumped onto my back so joyfully that I needed a while to adjust to his weight.

With Gandalf at our sides, we carefully walked towards the fields of Pelennor, crossing many dead and many wounded on our way. Women clad in black were already tending to them.

As we passed the gate, the hell of the instant rushed onto us.

The field was black with death and red with blood.

And before us, the green army of the dead was facing its master.

Aragorn.

I could have smiled, had the hour not been so dark.

"Release us!"

Gimli, beside Aragorn, shook his head. "Bad idea! Very handy are these lads, despite the fact they're dead."

"You gave us your word!"

Aragorn's deep voice echoed on the field. "I hold your oath fulfilled. Go. Be at peace."

The green soldiers gasped, and slowly disappeared into thin air.

And ever so slowly, the future King of Gondor turned around and assessed our presence, nodding with a small smile to Gandalf.

I, on the other hand, locked eyes with a sight I had hoped very much to see again.

"_Cousin. You are well._"

I smiled widely and walked up to Legolas, wrapping my arms around him and hugging him with all the strength I had left after more than a day of battle.

"_Legolas, dearest. I feared never to see you again._"

Then, as we parted, both smiling sadly, a cry of anguish and pain rose from behind me.

As I whirled around, the sight gave me chills.

Eomer, son of Eomund, was running towards the inanimate form of his younger sister, the lady Eowyn. His cries echoed on the fields as I ran to them.

"Eomer, let me."

His dark eyes met mine and he nodded while wiping his tears away. "Please save her, Aniha."

I pushed a hand onto Eowyn's forehead. And sighed.

"Alas, my friend, your sister has been struck by a Nazgul. The black breath is on her. Only one can save her life, and it is not me." I got up and glanced at Aragorn.

He looked at me for a long time, then nodded gravely.

I turned back to Eomer. "Carry her to the Houses of Healing. Aragorn will take care of her."

He nodded and quickly carried the still form of his sister towards the city.

Before I followed him, I walked to Pippin.

"I have to go. The Lady Eowyn is wounded. Find Merry and bring him to me if he's injured." I kissed his forehead and hurried back to my cousin, and together, we climbed up to the Halls of Denethor, for the wounded were far too many to be all brought to the healers.

Eowyn was quickly laid onto a table wrapped in thick cloth, and Aragorn, putting aside his Ranger coat, asked for athelas and a boil of warm water.

Eomer was sitting at her side, worry painted all over his face.

I decided to leave them and enquire onto someone else's life.

Faramir's.

Ioreth, the head healer, told me he had been the first brought up into the Houses, and walked with me to his room.

"He is awake, my Lady, though very weak. He's lost a lot of blood."

I nodded and thanked her before putting a hand onto the doorknob.

But didn't walk in at first.

The Earth shouted at me.

_Don't, Maheran! If you get into that room, your fate will be disturbed!_

_ How can it be disturbed if I enquire on a friend's life?_

_ He is not your friend, Elf, he has never been. Your souls are too entwined already. Stop this nonsense, it has never been meant to be!_

_ I don't understand you, Earth my friend._

_ The Man is fated to marry the shield-maiden of Rohan._

_ Eowyn? But, they never met!_

_ Not yet. But they will. Search your heart, you know you can't possibly wish to live by his side during his fleeting life._

_ I do not wish to leave his side!_

_ You cannot let down your immortality, Maheran! You have too a heavy responsibility on this earth to do so. Do not even think of it._

_ But... I love Faramir._

_ And he loves you. And that love is forbidden to both. Let him be._

_ Can I not at least say goodbye?_

_ Aye. But do not come back._

As I retreated back into my own head, tears were flowing out of my eyes onto my cheeks and chin.

How could this be?

How could the Earth only tell me now?

I had bonded so much with that Man, had become to love him as a part of myself, and now it wasn't meant to be?

I would have rather died than face his sadness at my appearance.

Of course he would have read it in my eyes.

So I let the sobs fade and the tears dry, and walked back to Ioreth, pretending Faramir was asleep and I needed to write a letter to him.

She did what she was asked, and an hour later, a five foot long letter was settled down onto Faramir's plate for the evening.

As I walked back to the Hall, and Legolas, tears began to threaten again. I tried to pull them back.

But my cousin knew better.

"_There is something troubling your heart, Aniha. Tell me."_

_ "I can't. I can't."_

_ "Yes you can. Go on. Tell me."_

His blue eyes bore into mine, and a pang echoed in my heart as I recalled the last time I had looked into eyes as blue as his.

And the kiss that had ensued.

"_I've fallen in love with Faramir."_

Legolas' eyes widened, but soon his arms were encircling me, and my head rested onto his chest. "_And it isn't right."_

_ "No, it isn't right. But it is hard to walk away."_

_ "I'm here, cousin. I will never again leave your side."_

_ "Thank you."_

He wiped the remnants of tears I had on the brink of my eyes, and turned me around to watch as Aragorn, Gandalf and Eomer were talking about the next events.

"Frodo has passed beyond my sight. The darkness is deepening."

"If Sauron had the Ring we would know it."

"It's only a matter of time. He's suffered a defeat, yes, but behind the walls of Mordor our Enemy is regrouping."

Gimli, sitting on Denethor's throne and smoking on his pipe, growled. "Let them stay there. Let them rot! Why should we care?"

"Because ten thousand Orcs now stand between Frodo and Mount Doom." Gimli said no more. "I've sent him to his death..."

Aragorn turned around. "No. There is still hope for Frodo. He needs time and safe passage through the plains of Gorgoroth. We can give him that."

"How?"

"Draw out Sauron's armies. Empty his lands. Then we gather our full strength and march on the Black Gate."

Gimli coughed, and Eomer spoke up. "We cannot achieve victory through strength of arms."

"Not for ourselves, but we can give Frodo his chance if we keep Sauron's eye fixed upon us. Keep him blind to all else that moves."

"A diversion." I looked up at Legolas, and saw he was quite looking forward to it.

I tilted my head in wonder.

But Gimli gave me the answer. "Certainty of death, small chance of success? What are we waiting for?"

Gandalf walked to Aragorn, leaning so he thought no one else could hear. Except a pair of Elves standing not far. "Sauron will suspect a trap. He will not take the bait."

"Oh, I think he will."

Aragorn's eyes met mine, and I walked to him, curious.

"_What is it, Estel?_"

At first his grey eyes widened at the name, unused for many decades and only in Rivendell. Then he took me apart. "_I think you know where Lord Denethor's Palantir lies?_"

I smirked at him. "_That is unwise, my Lord._"

"_Very unwise. But only then will he listen._"

"_Come, I'll show you the way._"

He nodded and turned around to Gandalf. "Gather the troops. We depart at dawn."

And the King-to-be followed me through a maze of corridors, passing before my and Faramir's rooms as we did. Pain was still fresh in my heart, but at least the certainty of a battle for Middle-Earth made me somehow let it aside.

At last we arrived to Denethor's chambers.

"_I leave you to it._"

Aragorn stopped me by taking my wrist. "_Aniha. Please ride with me tomorrow._"

I smiled sadly and nodded. "_I will, mellon. I will._"

And I walked back to the Hall, where Gandalf had directed Eomer to gather the remnants of Rohirrim fit for battle, as well as all the Gondorians he could find.

Gimli had gone fetching Merry – who had rested enough – and Pippin.

And Legolas and I sat through the night, listening, meditating, as we used to in our childhood days.

All too soon dawn came, and Aragorn came back, his eyes darkened as if Sauron had given him a reason to grieve.

Our army was small, but our strength lied in our hearts, and as I rode behind Aragorn, clad in a proper amour of Minas Tirith, his realm, I felt it could be a glorious day.

Even when we left the white city far behind, and all chance of ever seeing Faramir, son of Denethor, died with the sight.

After a long half day of ride, we arrived before the Black Gate.

Here we were.

The sky was grey and heavy with magical clouds, and the air was stinking of the Marches behind us.

But the men weren't afraid, weren't running away.

That was the power of will.

Then, with a kick of his heels, Aragorn sent our horse, Hasufel, forward, and we were followed without a word by Gandalf and Pippin, Legolas and Gimli, and Eomer and Merry.

Every emissary of the free people of Middle-Earth.

The Black Gate drew nearer and nearer, its height threatening, its power enticing, and I soon found myself begging for air.

He was near.

His eye was behind those doors.

"Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth! Let justice be done upon him!"

Silence fell at Aragorn's words, and then, a long minute after, the doors began to crack open, with a shriek similar to a Nazgul, as deadly if you didn't take care.

And by the crack came forth a figure clad in black, with a helmet hiding half his face, all but his mouth, huge and cracked mouth.

I knew what this was. Its name was spoken in the depth of Fangorn when Saruman turned over.

The Mouth of Sauron.

"My master, Sauron the Great, bids thy welcome." But none of us answered these "welcome". And it seemed not too pleased by it. "Is there anyone here who will treat with me?"

"We do not come to treat with Sauron, faithless, and acursed." The Mouth's head snapped at Gandalf. It snarled. "Tell your master this: the armies of Mordor must disband, he is to depart these lands, never to return."

"Oh, old Greybeard... I have a token I was bidden to show thy." And from the depths of his coat, he drew out a shiny shirt.

Mithril.

Frodo.

"Frodo!" Pippin's anguished cry echoed to the Mouth, who snapped its head at him.

Then Merry. "No!"

But I saw it through the lie. No, he wasn't dead. It was trying to know where he was. "Silence!" My and Gandalf's voice shouted, and the two Halflings snapped it.

"The Halfling was dear to thy I see. Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host. Who would believe that one so small could endure so much pain? And he did, Gandalf, he did."

Aragorn calmly drew his horse near.

"And who is this? Isildur's heir? It takes more to end this than an Elvish broken blade-"

But before it could ever speak its filthy mind again, Aragorn unsheathed Anduril, and beheaded the Mouth of Sauron.

I looked over my shoulder back at Gandalf. "What it said isn't true. I know it. He wants us to lose all hope."

And Aragorn said the same. "I do not believe it! I will not."

And as I felt the great darkness of an evil eye come towards us, the gates broke even more open, and the armies of Mordor appeared, ready to fight.

"Pull back!"

And we all retreated to our lines, Men, Elves and Rohirrim alike.

This time I could feel fear in the air.

"Hold your ground! Soldiers of Gondor, of Rohan, my brothers! I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me. The day may come when the courage of Men fails, when we break our vows and forget every bond of fellowship. But it is not this day! The howls of wolves and the clattering of shields when the world of Men comes crashing down! But it is not this day! This day we fight! By all that you hold dear, I bid you stand, Men of the West!"

And all drew their swords and spears, and it was a chaos of metal clashing against metal.

I leaned into Aragorn's ear. "_That was quite a speech, my friend."_

_ "Do not tell Lord Elrond._"

I chuckled, although the time wasn't right to laugh.

The dark army faced us. And encircled us.

"_Here I leave you, dear Hasufel._" I caressed the horse's sides, and slid down from his back, drawing out my sword, and not my bow.

Legolas quirked an eyebrow. "_So you will fight like a Man, Aniha?_"

I smiled up at him from beside Gimli. "_No, my dear cousin. I will fight like an Elf of Mirkwood facing her enemy in the eye and shouting the name of the Alvar when their heads will roll in the dust._"

To that he smiled as well.

"If I knew when I'd die, I never thought it'd be side by side with two Elves."

I looked down at Gimli, standing awkwardly beside us, and put a hand on his shoulder.

But it was Legolas who answered him. "What about side by side with friends?"

Gimli looked up at him, kind glance to my cousin. "Aye, I could do that."

The Eye was upon us, but its words weren't for any of us.

Except one.

Aragorn walked a few paces forward, his sword lowering, and he turned to us. "For Frodo." His sad smile faltered, and he ran to his death.

A cry of anguish rolled on every of our tongues, and we all ran to battle. Merry and Pippin first.

Orcs and Haradrims alike were swallowed in a maze of Men all cluttering together like cattle.

I stayed close to the Halflings, especially to Pippin. Merry seemed to be quite at ease with a blade.

The air was thick with smoke, with blood and with death, and all of us carried already old wounds that reopened. Legolas' brow was slashed, while my cheek was heavily scarred, leaving a trace of fire that would never falter until the Lady of Lorien would bless me with her caress, many days after.

All hope was lost of staying alive, but as long as the Eye was upon us, the Enemy would not see Frodo passing right under his nose and to Orodruin.

Which was spitting fire with a renewed strength when the fight began.

I saw it as a good sign.

And they came.

The remaining Eight.

And their screech didn't reach me.

Their master was no more. No more their power would pull me in.

And anyway, Gandalf could count on Gwaihir, the Lord of the Eagles.

Their peeps echoed over the Nazgul screeches, and the smile never left my face.

But as I was gazing up, an Orc managed to almost stab me in the chest.

Hadn't it been for a golden haired horse-master.

I Bowed my head to him. "Eomer. Always a pleasure."

He smiled devilishly. "Don't make it a habit."

And we fought back to back for long intense moments.

Elf and Man alike.

Free to die.

And then all we had ever hoped for happened.

Sauron's cries echoed around the plain, and its servants stopped fighting, watching behind them as the Dark Tower fell and fell and fell down and down.

Sauron was dead.

And all of Mordor imploded, fell into darkness.

Our foes were swallowed by the Earth as they fled, and we were left alone, in the silence of victory.

When it finally reached us and "Frodo!" was shouted by almost every living man on our side, Orodruin exploded.

And pain fell on us like a veil.

Frodo and Sam were no more.

_Yes, they are, Maheran. Call for the wizard._

I whirled around. Gandalf was there, gazing into thin air, tears flowing out of his blue eyes.

I put a hand on his shoulder, the ghost of a smile on my lips. We needed to be swift and quick. "Gandalf." His eyes met mine. "The Halflings are not dead. We need to fetch him."

At first stunned, a smile formed on his lips as well, and he gasped in amazement. Without a single word spoken to out company, he whistled once, and Gwaihir landed behind our group.

Gandalf climbed on the Eagle's back, and three of them were away.

Legolas and Aragorn came to my side. "Care to explain?"

I smiled widely. "They are not dead."

And all rejoiced.

Except me.

For another Eagle landed before me, for me.

"The wind tells me you need a lift, Maheran."

I nodded but turned to Legolas first.

"You're leaving."

I nodded. "I wish to see our forest once again. I will see you soon, my dear cousin. But the time for rejoice isn't yet for me."

And he nodded. He had understood. Minas Tirith was now banned for me.

As long as Faramir, last Steward of Gondor lived.

A single tear rolled down my cheek, and my mount kicked himself into the air, heading west, while my friends shouted and laughed.

They would not forget about me.

But none would understand my leaving.

This was the end of the journey.


	19. Epilogue: The Fourth Age

_ A/N: This is it. The epilogue. I hope you enjoyed the journey, and will read even more fanfics about LOTR. This saga is the best ever. And I have a big news. Well, two really._

_ I am in the process of _reading_ LOTR. Seriously. I'm already reading the Two Towers, and hell do I understand your grudges against some plotholes in the movies. Where's Glorfindel for Heaven's sake? ^^_

_ And last but not least, I am writing for the moment a fanfic about the Hobbit, both book and movie-verse, in the style of Lost in Austen. Will be up as soon as finished! :)_

_ Now on with it! _

**Epilogue: The Fourth Age**

Two years later, I left the welcoming halls of my uncle and departed for a long journey south, to attend my dear friend Eomer's wedding.

The hours had been dark after the passing of Sauron. I had not attended Elessar's crowning, instead sending Legolas with a long letter telling Aragorn the reasons of my absence.

I had rejoiced when my uncle Thranduil had welcomed me back home open armed. A long waited reunion then began, along with Legolas later on, when he came back with Gimli high on his heels.

I was Princess Aniha once more. A hero of the Dark Hours, and I could have been happy where I stood.

But not a day passed when I did think of Faramir.

Eomer had came late in 3019's summer, to tell me his dear sister had wed Faramir of Gondor and had left to live in Ithilien.

I had cried for long days, stretching into weeks and months, until a sight for sore eyes arrived in the halls of Mirkwood.

Merry and Pippin came to visit.

These were the happiest days since the war.

And then the letter had come. Official, bearing the Rohirric seal and everything.

Eomer was to wed Lothiriel of Dol Amroth, and he wished me to be the one to escort his fiancée.

I rode and rode south and west and met with the white-clad escort of the lady, blonde and fragile-looking, some sort of Eowyn without courage.

But she was a gentle person, and she met Eomer's impulsive ways. They would match perfectly.

Edoras was covered in white and blue flowers when we arrived, and we met with Legolas and Gimli, a smile creeping onto their lips as I passed them.

The Golden Hall was buzzing with people as Lothiriel took my hand and I walked her to her beloved.

Eomer's eyes met mine, and we smiled widely to each other.

A friend indeed.

As I walked down the aisle back to my cousin, I took in my surroundings.

Aragorn was wedding the couple, and his wife, the Lady Arwen, the Evenstar, was standing in his shadow.

Gandalf and four Halflings were standing first in the crowd.

And then my eyes met a pair of blue orbs I had not seen in a long long while.

And those eyes told me many things. That they didn't forget. That they never will. That they still belonged to me as much as they did the white lady next to them.

That they missed me.

And I bowed my head at him.

And closed my eyes to hide my tears as I rested next to Legolas.

_I haven't forgotten either._


End file.
